


X-Ray and Vav Madness

by lonewolf255



Series: The Universe of X-Ray and Vav [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, OC, Superheroes!, achievement hunter au, and supervillains!, x-ray and vav
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonewolf255/pseuds/lonewolf255
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin and Ray shared many things. They lived together, they worked together... but more importantly, they shared a secret. Because who else could possibly believe that they were undercover superheroes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

Gavin let out a sigh as he stared at the computer screen in front of him. It wasn’t that slow motion editing was difficult for him; he already had years of experience. But the work was so _tedious_!

He lost focus as he heard the door behind him open. In walked his coworker and roommate, Ray Narvaez, Jr. “How’s the editing going, Mr. Free?” Ray joked as he handed Gavin an unopened Red Bull and pulled up a chair next to him.

Gavin groaned in response. “I’m so bored! Editing is the absolute worst!” he complained in a British accent.

Ray merely shrugged. “Hey, working in the editing industry was your idea. I’m just lucky you had enough experience to get both of us hired.” The native New Yorker looked at his friend and laughed when he saw that Gavin was pouting. “We don’t have to work together, you know. If you want a different job, go find one.” He suggested once he managed to stop himself from laughing.

Gavin replied. “I know. It’s just more convenient this way, innit? In case things come up.” Ray nodded, knowing what Gavin was referring to. Gavin turned his attention back to the monitor, dismayed at his lack of progress. “You on break now?” the Brit asked casually as he continued to work.

"Yep. I thought I’d see how your editing project was going.” Ray took a moment to squint at Gavin’s screen, and saw that the editing process was barely halfway done. “Oh, you’re a little farther than I expected, actually.”

Gavin put a hand to his face in frustration. “I’m never gonna finish this. It’s never over, Ray, it never ends!”

Holding back another round of laughter, Ray put a hand on Gavin’s shoulder in an attempt to be sympathetic. “At least you’ll always have a job to do.” Gavin let out an irritated squawk, and realizing that he was only making things worse, Ray laughed and removed his hand from the Brit’s shoulder. “Sorry. I tried.” Ray chuckled.

Gavin took his hand away from his face and fixed Ray with an annoyed stare. “Gee, thanks a lot, Ray.” He replied in sarcasm.

Just then, Ray’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Ray’s eyebrows raised slightly when he saw the number, causing Gavin to lean forward in his seat in an attempt to hear what was being said on the other line. Ray’s expression could only mean one thing, and right away Gavin knew who it was.

After listening intently to the speaker, Ray looked at Gavin and nodded as he stood up. “We’ll be there ASAP, sir.” The Puerto Rican replied in a serious tone.

That was Gavin’s cue. He immediately saved and exited the editing program he was working on and powered down his computer. Ray hung up on the call and shut the door to Gavin’s office.

Moments later, X-Ray and Vav emerged from Gavin’s office window, dropping onto the ground with a little difficulty.

“Why did we change in your office? It was dumb. Now we have to sneak out the window like criminals!” X-Ray complained as his feet met the ground below.

“Don’t start with me when you were the one who closed the door and started getting undressed!” Vav shot back in indignation. “Where are we going, anyway? I swear, if we have to take a bus again, looking like _this_ …”

X-Ray interrupted his partner. “It’s like two blocks away, not far this time. It’s a hostage situation, so we have to check in with Captain Whirrel, then sneak in slo-mo style.”

Vav sighed. “So I’m going to have to go in alone, aren’t I?”

X-Ray shrugged. “Or you could just wait for me to bust my way in and jeopardize the hostages. There might be a way for me to slip in if I can jam the security cameras. I’m just worried that this guy will start shooting once the cameras go down.”

Vav considered this point. “Alright, I can go in first, but it’s bloody difficult when you interrupt my whole train of thought on our talkies, like last time.”

X-Ray shot his partner a defensive look. “Well, I didn’t want you to fail, and it looked like you were gonna fuck up! Of course I was telling you where to go!”

They rounded the corner and saw flashing lights in the distance. Their destination was just ahead.

“So what’s with the hostages? Is it the Mad King?” Vav questioned his friend as they made their way to the Chief of Police.

“No one’s sure yet. It could be one of his henchmen, or it could be a random criminal. But I don’t think the Mad King himself would risk getting caught for such a small payoff.” Ray stopped talking briefly as the Chief came into view. He seemed relieved to see the duo.

“You boys got here quick.” Captain Whirrel commented.

“We were in the neighborhood.” Vav replied in an attempt to sound cool. X-Ray just shook his head at his friend.

“Any new developments?” X-Ray asked as they gazed upon the building in question. “I mean, did he say what he wants?”

“He’s asking for the usual bad guy amount, no less than six figures,” the Captain sighed. “Why do they do it? They know they can’t get away.”

X-Ray responded “Desperate times, Captain.”

“Well, I hope you boys have a plan. I want this guy subdued as quickly as possible.” Captain Whirrel said.

X-Ray replied with a quick “Of course!” and then grabbed Vav’s arm and dragged him to the side before he could protest. Once the duo was out of earshot, he said “Yeah, we don’t got shit.”

Vav squawked “I know, so why did you say that?!” X-Ray merely shrugged, and Vav knew what he would say next. “Don’t tell me to ‘figure it out’!” he interrupted before X-Ray could say a word.

X-Ray argued “We didn’t come here for no reason! I’m gonna ask the Captain if we know where the hostages are being kept, and we’ll go from there. You’re gonna have to find a way inside though.”

With that said, X-Ray went to speak with the Captain for more information briefly, leaving Vav fuming by himself.

Then Vav had a thought. Maybe it could work; if he was quick enough, if he could slow things down just enough, maybe it could be just that simple…

When X-Ray walked back to where he had originally left his partner, Vav was nowhere to be found. A quick and confused look around confirmed his suspicions. “Dammit!” X-Ray muttered as he started circling the building, scanning each entrance in hopes of a blind spot. When he found that there weren’t any, he started planning on making one of his own. He grabbed a rock and measuring the distance in his head, stood just out of sight of the surveillance camera and threw the rock at it with all his might. The camera buzzed as the line short-circuited, glass falling onto the sidewalk from the broken object.

Meanwhile, Vav was wandering around the building, running as fast as his legs would carry him while slowing down time around him, making him just a slight blur to the surveillance cameras within. Vav had simply walked in the front door. Perhaps the camera had caught the door jiggling slightly before coming to a stop, but Vav had not been detected. “I’m like the Flash!” He thought with glee, then a frown formed on his face as a new thought formed. “Damn, I should’ve waited for X-Ray to tell me where they are all being kept… Stupid of me…”

But it was too late for that. Vav knew that by now perhaps X-Ray had noticed he was gone, and that meant he would be trying to find a way in himself. The Brit knew he had to move quickly, glancing into rooms as he passed. If X-Ray just broke his way in, the suspect would be alerted to their presence, and the rescue mission would be a lost cause at that point. More than that though, Vav had something to prove, that he really could handle himself. He always seemed to find a way to mess things up; this was his chance to fix that, to prove that he was a worthy partner, that he could actually be _trusted_ …

“Hang on, what was that?” Vav said to himself. If heard by anyone else, it would have sounded like an odd squeak in the air, like a tape recorder being fast forwarded at maximum speed. Looking into one of the rooms (the surveillance room, of course!) he saw a man with a gun and at least three others crammed into the small space, all too afraid of being shot to rebel. Vav smiled to himself. They would never notice him enter the room if he was quick about it.

But then he happened to glance at the suspect’s face, and he saw a mixture of fear and frustrated anger there. He was worried about something. Vav saw that one of the camera’s had been shattered, and knew that X-Ray must have entered the building. The man’s arm was raised, his gun pointed at one of the fear-stricken hostages. They weren’t moving, of course, Vav had time slowed too much for them to move in his line of vision, but if he didn’t act quickly, the whole rescue would be a disaster. Vav mentally prepared himself, and then dashed into the room in an attempt to disarm the man. “Better be quick. Can’t slo-mo for too much longer…” Vav thought, exhaustion starting to set into his bones due to the extended slow down. But he couldn’t stop now, had to keep going…

X-Ray infiltrated the building, hoping that Vav had already located the hostages at least, maybe he had the suspect incapacitated. More importantly, he hoped that Vav was safe. “Idiot, couldn’t wait one minute for me to come back!” he grumbled to himself, his angry front masking his concern for the Brit. “If he gets killed, I won’t forgive him.”

As he thought that, he heard a gunshot just down the hall and around the corner from the hallway he was in. Fear seized him as he ran toward the sound of the shot. “Ga— Vav!” he shouted, bursting into the tiny security room. The gun that had just fired was lying on the floor, away from the group of hostages. The suspect was pinned on the ground, with Vav restraining him with some effort. X-Ray noticed with relief that there was a bullet hole in the ceiling, and bits of plaster were raining down.

“X-Ray, help me!” Vav squeaked, struggling to hold down the slightly larger man.

With a sigh, X-Ray helped Vav to pin the man down whilst taking a pair of handcuffs off of his belt loop. Once the man was disarmed and cuffed, he lost all of his power, and the hostages were free to stand and exit the building. One of the victims spat in the man’s direction, but poor Vav ended up with the saliva on his face instead.

“Damn nose,” was all he said when the flustered victim tried to apologize.

Soon after, some officers were around to formally arrest the man and escorted him to a police car. Captain Whirrel walked up to X-Ray, whom he perceived to be the leader of the duo. Vav huffed at the lack of attention. “Good work. We’ll take him down to the station and see what we can get out of him. If he’s one of the Mad King’s men, we’ll let you know.”

X-Ray nodded. “If you need anything else, just call,” he replied nobly.

Vav interrupted, impatient. “Does that mean we get a bat signal? I mean an X-Ray and Vav signal?” His eyes widened in expectation, excitement.

The Captain merely said “You boys do good work. Take care.” Then he walked to his own squad car and drove off. Vav had been completely ignored.


	2. A New Development

Gavin stared at the computer screen in front of him, pouting at the editing program that he was using. He hadn’t spoken to Ray since they got back to the office.

Ray sighed. “Gavin, are you still mad because he ignored you?”

Gavin didn’t reply, but his expression soured even more and he sunk down into his chair as he worked on.

Ray saw that the Brit wasn’t going to answer him and took that to his advantage. “That was really stupid of you, by the way. Going off on your own. It was reckless, and you could’ve been killed.”

“What do you care? You’re the Captain’s golden boy, anyway. It doesn’t matter if I’m there or not.” Gavin finally said begrudgingly.

“Yeah, but if something happens to you... I would have to pay the rent by myself!” Ray replied stubbornly though there was obviously more to it that he wasn’t saying. Knowing that he had sounded harsh, he continued “But if it weren’t for you, those hostages would have died today. That should count for something, I think.”

Gavin considered this. “Yeah, but still, everyone thinks I’m a damn joke. No one takes me seriously,” he whined, finally turning to look at Ray.

“I take you seriously. That should count for something. Besides, you never cared before.” Ray pointed out. Where was Gavin going with this, anyway? It wasn’t like him to complain about a lack of praise.

“I _don’t_ care, not really. I’m just tired of playing the fool.” Gavin admitted in a grumble.

“Then don’t.” was Ray’s simple response. Gavin shook his head at his friend.

“It’s not that simple, but whatever. You should probably get back to your desk. Wouldn’t want the boss to get on us for overextending our lunch break again.” He wanted to drop the conversation. Ray didn’t seem to understand, and how could Gavin even begin to explain? Best to just forget about it.

“I guess you’re right, I should get back to work.” Ray stood up, but instead of immediately exiting the room, turned to look at the Brit briefly. He wanted to say something meaningful, something that could put Gavin at ease. Not entirely sure how to proceed, he opened his mouth to speak anyway. “Hey, don’t sweat those guys at the station. Most of them are assholes on a power trip.” Ray flashed him a cocky grin. “We do most of their work for them anyway. Screw them.”

Gavin laughed in spite of himself. “Don’t let them hear you say that. We’ll both end up locked away!”

Ray snorted in derision, then started to leave the room with a wave. “Seriously though, don’t do that again. I like splitting rent with someone, so don’t go getting yourself killed or anything.” Gavin merely laughed at his parting words.

Hours later, back at the station the Captain was working on getting information out of the perpetrator. It had been three hours with still not so much as one word out of the criminal, who had been identified as one Kyle Stark. He just stared straight ahead, eyes blank and unmoving. A few times Whirrel had been tempted to contact a medical professional. “Maybe the man is in shock? Is he sick? None of my guys raised a hand against him, I’m sure of it. Ah, damn…” he thought to himself, still sitting across from Stark. He was beginning to wonder if he was wasting his time.

“Look pal, you don’t have to say a word, and you’re still going to jail. Judges don’t tend to take hostage situations like this lightly. Now, if you were working under someone, I can see if we can cut a deal for you. That means less jail time. But first, I need a name.” the Captain said, impatience creeping into his voice. Stark started to move for the first time in hours, tilting his head slightly to look at Captain Whirrel. Whirrel commented sarcastically “Oh, so you can move! Now we’re making progress!” His tone then dropped to something serious, even dangerous. “You work alone, or was someone else involved?”

Stark answered with a groggy “Huh?” as though he had just woken up from a nap. He even started to move his head more, looking around the room in confusion. “Where—?” He looked at the Captain again, who had started tapping his fingers against the table between them in frustration.

“You’re trying my patience,” the Captain warned before speaking in a voice that was quickly gaining in volume. “Were. You. Working. Alone?” Stark opened his mouth as if to speak, but then shut it again, as if he didn’t know what to say. Whirrel kept talking. “Was it the Mad King, is that why you won’t give him up?”

That got Stark’s attention. “M-Mad King?” he stuttered, as if he was shocked to even be considered in the same sentence as the man. Fear edged in his voice, eyes wide and hands shaking. The Captain was not impressed, in fact was becoming tired of this act or whatever it was that Stark was trying to do.

“Yes, the Mad King. You’ve heard of him then? Biggest crime boss in this part of the state, and probably the next state too. You afraid he’ll get after you once you give him up? Understandable, but that’s what witness protection programs are for. If you help us put him away, we can help you.” He was trying to reason now, misinterpreting the sudden onset of Stark’s fear as affirmation of his working with the elusive crime boss.

“No, I-I, what? I don’t work for the Mad King, I’ve just heard about him in the papers!” Stark was getting frantic now as he continued “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but there’s been some sort of mistake. Am I in a police station?” It almost seemed as if the man was truthfully and genuinely confused with the situation. But that was impossible, with countless witnesses to name him as the perpetrator holding that group of people hostage.

Captain Whirrel shook his head in disgust, sick of whatever game this guy was playing. “Oh really, you don’t know where you are? So I guess you don’t remember holding up a bank and holding five people hostage just a few hours ago.”

Stark seemed relieved, thinking the Captain was being serious and not sarcastic. “That’s right, it couldn’t have been me! I would never hold anyone hostage, I don’t even know how to hold a gun! I just remember being at the library and suddenly— W-w-wait, what time is it?” he stuttered as a dark look came across the Captain features.

At first, Whirrel considered arguing the evidence at Stark, about the witnesses, the gun with his fingerprints all over it, not to mention that he’d been caught red-handed by X-Ray and Vav themselves. Then he reconsidered, refusing to even play this game any longer. “I think we’re done here,” he said dismissively, calling in one of his men and saying “Get this guy out of here. Now.”

He left the room frustrated, with Stark yelling at his back down the hall as he was hauled away to a jail cell. ‘Wait, you have to believe me, I would never—! I just went to the library to get some books for my kids to read, please! I don’t remember, I don’t—” The door at the end of the hallway and Captain Whirrel heard the crazed man’s pleas no more.

One of his men who had been assigned to the case, Detective Henry Wells, followed after the Captain, having just watched the whole thing in the adjacent room through the one-way mirror. “Captain, I don’t think we should just dismiss this guy’s claims just yet.”

The Captain barked out a bitter laugh before facing the detective. Spending three hours going back and forth from his office to the interview room in vain had soured his mood considerably. “And why is that, detective? That guy is trying to play mind games. To claim that he’s innocent and remembers nothing more than a visit to the library after he was disarmed and cuffed by the boys, that’s ridiculous. In fact, it’s crazy, and I’ve never heard such nonsense before!”

Detective Wells waited patiently for the Captain to finish ranting before explaining himself. “I know, sir. It does seem improbable, but it’s possible that this man is suffering from some sort of mental disorder. It’s uncommon but not entirely unheard of for a person to black out and then ‘wake up’, so to speak, and not remember a bit of the past few hours.”

“So you really think this guy managed to commit several crimes, including attempted armed robbery and holding hostages, all in his sleep?” The Captain obviously wasn’t buying it.

“Well, no sir. Not sleeping exactly, but in an altered state of mind perhaps. It’s uncommon, like I said, but we should look at all possibilities here. The guy— what’s his name, Sparks? — He seemed genuinely confused after he started finally talking to you. His head kind of jerked forward, like he was coming out of a trance.” Detective Wells stated carefully, trying to get his point across without irritating the Captain any further.

“If that’s the case, then it will probably show up in his medical records. I’ll have someone look into it.” Captain Whirrel started to turn, thinking the conversation was over but Wells started talking again.

“Maybe, but Captain, most mental illnesses go unrecorded or unnoticed because of the social stigma for mental illness. No one wants to be known as a basket-case, so they either hide or deny the symptoms completely. I think we should call in a psychiatrist just to be sure.” The Captain turned a wary eye on the detective, who simply replied with a sheepish grin “I was a psych minor in college.”

Whirrel was simply too exhausted to argue. “Fine Wells, have it your way. Call in your guy if you want, check him out. But if you ask me, this guy is full of it. He most likely works for the Mad King, and if he does, I want him to identify the guy so we can finally put him away for good.”

Wells nodded. “I’m not working on the Mad King’s case, but I’ve heard stories. So it’s true. No one even knows what the guy looks like, huh? They say all of his boys would rather take a prison sentence before ratting him out.”

Whirrel sighed. “Not a damn one of them. But it’s much more than that.” Wells stared at him expectantly, but Whirrel couldn’t find the words to explain the anomaly that was the Mad King. So he opted for the easiest explanation that he could at the moment. “Even the few that were willing to talk… They couldn’t remember his face.”

The detective’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, they couldn’t remember? They never saw his face or what?”

Whirrel shrugged. “I wish I could tell you. It’s more than that though. I can’t explain.”

Not wanting to monopolize the Captain’s time any further, Wells replied “Captain, I’ll get right on this. I’m acquainted with quite a few accomplished psychiatrists. I’ll see who I can get to look at this guy, and then we might know more about this.”

“Mm-hmm,” the Captain muttered dismissively, already turning around and heading for the break room for a cup of coffee. It was gonna be another long night.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Gavin and Ray didn’t clock out until seven that evening. As Ray rounded the corner to scan out for the day, he saw Gavin pulling on his jacket. “Finish editing?” he asked simply as he scanned his employee ID.

Gavin sighed. “Just barely. I dunno why, but it took especially long for this one. I couldn’t bloody concentrate.” They walked out of the building together and headed for a bus stop. “Do you know what, we should move closer to the office so we can just walk. I’m sick of taking the damn bus!” he complained as he checked his watch. “We have like fifteen minutes until it shows up. Do you wanna go to the convenience store for snacks?”

Ray shrugged. “Sure, what else are we gonna do?” They started heading for the convenience store and each grabbed a can of red bull and a couple bags of chips for the ride home. “We are so healthy!” Ray laughed, as they got in line, then his phone started going off. He checked the caller ID and immediately walked outside, leaving Gavin to pay.

When Gavin walked out of the store, Ray was just hanging up. “Was that the Captain?” he asked as they headed for the bus stop. Two minutes to go.

Ray nodded. “Yeah. He said the guy had some crazy story about how he didn’t remember anything and he was at the library and he blacked out or some shit.”

Gavin’s eyebrows furrowed. “Rubbish!” he exclaimed, and then he spotted the bus driving toward them. “Oh good, it’s a minute early today!”

They sat in the way back of the bus, heads turned toward each other in secrecy. To anyone looking at them from afar, they may have looked like lovers. “So how did he expect to get out of it after being blatantly caught?” Gavin inquired, to which Ray shook his head.

“Maybe he’s an idiot. Anyway, one of the detectives suggested calling in a shrink to see if there’s something wrong with him. According to the guy, the last thing he remembered was being in the library picking up some books for his kids.” Ray said.

“Oh no, he has kids. Now I feel bad. Why would anyone do that to their family? For their sake, I hope he’s crazy.” Gavin replied. “So no Mad King then. Guess we’re out of it.”

Ray shrugged. “I told the Captain that we’d check out the library and see if anyone there recognizes him, see if he really ever went there at all. As a favor, you know.”

Gavin squawked. “Aw, Ray! Our day off!”

Ray sighed. “It’s gonna take like, ten minutes, Gavin. You can survive being in the library for that long. Besides, we need to stay on the Captain’s good side. Always a plus.”

Gavin grumbled “Oh, fine. But after that, we should go see a movie or something. Let’s see what’s playing when we get home.”

Ray nodded, then he and Gavin started looking out of the windows, into the surrounding dark night. There was more to this case than they could imagine, and perhaps it was something just as dangerous as the Mad King himself.


	3. A Trip to the Library

Ray stared up at the ceiling of his room, enveloped in darkness, willing himself to lose consciousness. He didn’t know why, but tonight sleep eluded him. It was probably due to the run-in that he and Gavin had on their way to the apartment. The local drunk had tried to talk to them, in what Ray assumed was an attempt to get them to buy him more alcohol. His name was Geoff Ramsey but during these drinking binges he referred to himself as Father Goeff. 

What bothered Ray most about their conversation was not that he was soliciting for alcohol; Ray understood that alcoholism is an illness, one that can only be cured through the willpower of the victim. No, what bothered Ray was what Geoff’s message to them had been. “Don’t take it lightly. There’s more to this case than can originally be seen.” And then “Father Goeff” had started rambling to himself as he turned and started heading to the shelter that he called home.

“Why the hell was he coming up to us talking about a ‘case’? It’s not possible that he knows about Gavin and me, is it?” Ray wondered, watching as a passing car’s headlights caused a streak of light to travel along the wall momentarily before all was dark again. Gavin had shaken it off as “another drunken binge, poor old Geoff”, but Ray wasn’t so easily convinced. He and Gavin liked their privacy, and if their secret identities were to fall into the hands of the wrong person, it would put their personal lives at risk.

And of course the message also brought to Ray’s mind doubts about the case itself. Yeah, it’s possible that the guy they arrested was lying about blacking out to get himself out of jail, and maybe even out of positively identifying the Mad King. But perhaps Geoff was right, maybe there really was more to this case than is seen on the surface. Perhaps the suspect is mentally disturbed, for example, or if he was working for the Mad King, perhaps his mind had been tampered with. “Hell, even Gavin and I can’t ID him, and we’ve seen him ourselves.” Ray thought, momentarily straining his mind to force any tiny details that he could remember about the Mad King. It was hopeless, however; any personal details that he’d noticed when face to face with the biggest crime boss in the area were now gone from his memory, almost as if they had been completely erased from his mind by science or magic or some higher power.

Ray turned onto his side, facing away from the window in his room. “I have to get some sleep. No point worrying, it is what it is,” he reasoned as he willed himself to sleep. After half an hour of refusing to open his eyes, he finally drifted off, with nothing but the sound of the wind whispering against the window filling the room.

The next morning both men were awakened by screeching tires followed by a crash. Ray started awake and sat up too fast, causing a head rush. He sat up in bed, holding his hand to his eyes. “Ugh, what a great start to my morning…” he thought to himself. Seconds later, Gavin charged through the door, pointing to the window. 

“Did you see? Did you— Hey, what’s wrong with your head?” Gavin’s tone changed from hyperactive to concern.

Ignoring the last comment, Ray groaned “No, I didn’t see. Was there an accident?” Finally shaking off the rush, Ray stood, put on his glasses, and joined Gavin by the window. Sure enough, there had been a car crash. The both gazed down at the scene below, silence hanging between them for a minute before Ray commented “That sucks.” No one seemed to be injured.

“Shouldn’t we call the police or something?” Gavin asked, his phone out and ready to dial. 

Ray shook his head as he pointed to one of the drivers standing on the curve. “That guy has his phone out, I think he’s calling already.”

“Oh,” was all Gavin said as he pocketed his phone. The scene no longer interested either of them so they filed out of Ray’s room and headed for the kitchen. Gavin opened the fridge and studied its contents for a minute before closing it again, deciding that he didn’t want anything from it after all. Instead he reached for the loaf of bread sitting on the counter and popped two slices into the toaster. “What, I’m not that hungry!” he explained when he caught Ray giving him a strange look. 

“Just make sure the bread is alright this time. Last time you ended up eating mold.” Ray reminded him whilst reopening the fridge and pulling out some orange juice.

“Oh, gross. I forgot about that.” Gavin commented as he started to more thoroughly inspect the loaf. “It’s ok,” he said after a careful look. He turned his head to look at Ray, who was putting the juice back in the fridge.

“Ok, just reminding you,” was all Ray replied. He took a sip of his orange juice and checked his phone for the time. “We should probably go to the library soon. That way we can have the rest of the day to do whatever.” Gavin groaned in response. “Oh stop being a baby, it won’t take that long.” Ray laughed.

“You’re not gonna eat anything?” Gavin asked, looking at the glass of orange juice in Ray’s hand.

Ray shrugged. “Nah. I’m not hungry either.” Gavin offered him a piece of his toast anyway, which Ray refused by shaking his head.

Gavin took a bite of his toast before asking “Should we dress up when we go to the library? We are on official police business, after all. It would be suspicious if we just show up and start asking around for a guy we don’t know.”

“No, I don’t think we should. I don’t want to walk into a public place looking like an asshole unless it’s absolutely necessary. We can just pretend we’re friends of the family, and his wife is worried about why he didn’t come home yesterday.” Ray thought up a scenario on the fly. He really didn’t want to wear his costume unless he had to.

Gavin thought it over. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It would take too much effort to dress up, go ask one question, then leave and get changed again. We still need a picture though, because I don’t remember what the guy looks like. I don’t think the Captain ever told us his name either.”

Ray said “Oh, I forgot to mention, he did tell me his name last night. Kyle Stark, kind of like Tony Stark from Iron Man. The Captain texted a picture, look.” He held up his phone to Gavin. A picture of the suspect standing against the wall of the interview room popped up. 

Gavin laughed. “Well, what good friends we are to take his picture when he’s in jail.” Then, shaking his head “It looks like a bloody mug shot! How are we gonna play off pretending to be family friends?”

Ray laughed too once he looked the picture over again. “Shut up, Gavin! It’ll work, just roll with it.”

Once “breakfast” was finished, they walked outside. The police that showed up to record the accident seemed to almost be finished wrapping things up. Gavin and Ray recognized one of the policemen on duty, from working a case with him a month ago. Gavin made a noise that sounded like a bird’s squawk and then immediately he and Ray lowered their heads and skirted around the accident, trying to avoid being seen. Gavin started to wish that he wore a mask like Ray did.

They didn’t finally lift their heads again until the accident was well out of sight. “Jesus, that was close.” Gavin cried, looking over his shoulder as if to see if they had been followed. “I need to wear a mask, Ray.”

“That’s what I told you when we first started off.” Ray reminded him with an amused laugh. “You’re over here trying to be like Superman or something.”

“Superman doesn’t wear a mask!” Gavin tried to defend himself.

“Yeah, but Clark Kent wears glasses, idiot!” Ray pointed out, and they both started to laugh then. Gavin looked mildly embarrassed, though not too much so considering he was used to making a fool of himself in front of Ray. 

One long walk down the street and a few turned corners later, they stared up the library steps. Gavin sighed again but didn’t dare complain. As they started heading inside, Ray happened to turn around just in time to see Geoff walk around the corner, stumbling about as usual. Ray ducked his head and continued on inside, suddenly feeling the need to hide from the man after his fears of last night.

Gavin noticed Ray’s sudden apprehension but didn’t comment, merely turning his head around to see what Ray had been looking at. Seeing Geoff had no particular effect on Gavin, who just turned his attention back to the person behind the desk.

Among the employees working behind the desk was a woman who was just on the edge of being attractive, but dressed too plainly for anyone to notice who wasn’t paying close attention. For some reason, she had definitely caught Gavin’s attention, and he had the sudden urge to try to talk to her, so he started to approach her.

Ray, who was just about to approach the head librarian to ask about Stark, saw Gavin suddenly start walking toward the opposite end of the counter and followed him instead. “Maybe he saw something unusual?” Ray reasoned. It wasn’t until Gavin stopped and tried flirting with the woman behind the counter that Ray realized what was happening and shook his head at the friend.

She was dressed in an old fashioned plaid skirt that extended a little below her knees and a plain white button-up shirt. The glasses she wore were old-school too, making it difficult to really see her eyes. In Ray’s opinion, she didn’t seem to stand out in particular. When she noticed Gavin and Ray standing there, she smiled at them and looked down expecting to see one of them holding books to check out. When she realized that they weren’t holding anything, she looked up with a puzzled but pleasant look. “Hi, what can I do for you today?” she asked.

Ray was starting to ask her if she’d seen Stark, but Gavin cut him off. “Hello, there! My name’s Gavin, and this is my friend Ray. May I ask what your name is?” His accent was much more British than usual, him knowing that some Americans find a British accent irresistible. Ray rolled his eyes.

The girl looked even more confused but answered him anyway. “Um, I’m Korah. Nice to meet you. Oh, did you need help looking for a book?” She was trying to figure out their motive, and she glanced at Ray expectantly as if she thought he might clear up the confusion.

Gavin kept talking, though. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before, Korah. Did you just move? Ray and I are phenomenal tour guides. If you ever need help getting around, you know.”

Korah gave him a little smile, as if she was uninterested but trying to be polite. “Yeah, I’m pretty new around here. Thanks, I’ll… uh, keep you in mind.” Her eyes flicked over her shoulder out of the giant windows set at the front entrance of the library before looking back at Gavin. “So you know a lot about this place, huh?”

Gavin flashed her a charming smile while Ray crossed his arms and started drumming against his arm impatiently. “Yeah, I know the place like the back of my hand! I’ve lived around here for at least five years,” he bragged.

“Then, can I ask you about something?” Korah tilted her head as she asked.

Gavin gestured with his hand. “Ask away.”

Korah pointed past Gavin and Ray out the window. Just in view was Geoff Ramsey, holding a bottle of liquor to his lips as he sat on the curb across the street from the library. “Who is that man? I’ve seen him practically everywhere, and people seem to be afraid of him. What did he do, who is he?”

Ray shifted uncomfortably, not daring to glance back at Geoff, but Gavin answered with ease. “Oh, that’s old Geoff Ramsey. He’s like the local drunk. Sad story, that one, because he used to be a firefighter a few years back. He was really good at it, too, a real brave guy. A lot of people saw him as something of a hero. Ironically, he lost everything he ever had in a fire. Police suspected someone did it on purpose, but never figured out who.”

Korah cut into Gavin’s story to ask a question. “So he lost everything? Did he have a family, or…” she trailed off as she observed the look on both Ray and Gavin’s faces, a look that told of unspeakable tragedy. Instead, she asked “So why are people afraid of him?”

Gavin continued “Well, poor Geoff kind of lost his mind after that. Took to drinking too much. Started calling himself a prophet or something, although most people joke about him being a ‘drunken seer’. Anyway, he calls himself Father Goeff when he’s drinking, I think because he can’t remember how to pronounce his name when he’s drunk.”

Korah looked horrified. “That’s no reason to be afraid of him, poor man! Someone should be looking after him.” Gavin paused, not sure what to say next.

Ray instantly took over. “Sorry to break this up, but we wanted to ask you something, actually.” Korah turned her attention to Ray, curiously. 

Ray pulled out his phone and pulled up the picture of Stark. “Hi, we’re here looking for our friend. His wife called this morning saying that he was here at this library yesterday to pick out some books for his kids, but he never came back. She’s gotten kind of worried, so she asked us to look around for him. This is him in the picture, did you happen to see him yesterday?” He studied Korah’s face carefully. 

A look of recognition crossed her face and she nodded, looking from the phone to Ray. “Yes, I did see him, actually. I was the one that helped him check out his books. Some Clifford, some Charlie Brown, a couple picture books… I hope nothing’s happened, his poor family must be devastated.”

Ray nodded. “They are, that’s why we offered to help look for him. Was he acting unusual yesterday, when you were helping him?” Ray realized too late that the question sounded a little too official, a little too police-like, and he saw Korah’s face shift into an unreadable expression.

“No, he seemed pretty normal to me. Maybe a little flirtier than a married man should be, but that was all,” she commented absently. She started studying the picture again, scrutinizing it, and Ray quickly backed out of the picture, hoping she hadn’t taken notice of the background. Of course she had. “Taken inside of a police station, wasn’t it? Are you the police?” Korah asked curiously, looking between Ray and Gavin. Once Ray had jumped into business mode, Gavin had stopped talking, his attempt to get Korah’s attention wasted. The moment she mentioned the police, however, Gavin couldn’t help but shoot a worried look in Ray’s direction.

Ray silently cursed Gavin’s lack of a poker face. “No, we’re friends of the family, like I said,” he tried to say casually, but the look on Gavin’s face was making him uneasy. He wanted to turn to his friend and ask him to please try to look less obvious. He made a mental note to bring it up once they were outside.

Korah obviously wasn’t buying it. “Actually, I think I saw his face on the news this morning. He’s the guy that held hostages in the local bank the other day, right? He certainly looks just like him.” Now Korah was the one to watch Ray and Gavin’s faces, studying them for some reason. Perhaps she just didn’t like being lied to, but whatever the reason, Ray felt his confidence starting to fall and he knew that Gavin’s was rock-bottom by now. 

In an attempt to get himself out of this situation, he said in a hurried, unconvincing voice “No, umm, I’m not sure. We don’t watch the news. Thanks for your help.” Then he swiftly turned around and started heading for the exit, pulling on Gavin’s sleeve as he did so. Gavin followed his lead, basically skipping out of the library in his anxious state.

Once they were outside, Gavin squeaked “My God, she didn’t pull any punches! But at least we know he had been here.” Then he smiled, and changed the subject for a minute. “She was pretty.”

Ray shook his head. “Actually, she looked more than a little plain to me. Whatever, to each his own. But damn, I wanted to ask around some more with the staff. I feel like we didn’t find out anything. Something doesn’t add up about all this. Who goes to pick up books for their kids, acting completely normal, and then on the way home decides to stick up a bank for money?”

Gavin shrugged. “Oh, well. We accomplished something, at least. We talked to the person that checked out his books, and besides we can’t go back in unless we want Korah to start questioning our motives again. I now pronounce this favor, completed. Let’s go do something!”

Ray sighed. He felt that they hadn’t been thorough enough in their investigation, but at the moment there was nothing more that he could do about it. Begrudgingly, he followed behind Gavin in search of the nearest bus stop, avoiding Geoff's gaze as they passed him.


	4. Psych Evaluation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of feel the need to warn you all on this one, the chapter starts out lighthearted and ends on a sad note. Sorry I really couldn't help myself lol.

“Look at this!” Gavin shoved a wrinkled newspaper into Ray’s face. They were sitting on a bus taking them downtown when Gavin had picked up the discarded paper and started reading it out of boredom. Suddenly that same paper was being forced into Ray’s line of vision, making it impossible to see anything else. Ray backed away and readjusted his glasses in order to see the headline more properly. It read:

**Perfectly Preserved Frozen Caveman Discovered!**

The rest of the article was about a team of scientists and how they came to discover the specimen, a caveman that had somehow managed to keep his former looks, as if actually still alive. In the picture was a group of people (the scientists, Ray assumed) surrounding a huge block of ice. In the center of the ice was a man wearing nothing save for a leather scrap around his waist. In the next picture over was a computer-generated model of what the scientists thought the man would look like if he were to be unfrozen. Reddish-brown curls surrounded the specimen’s round face. Ray dismissed the piece as propaganda and tossed the paper back at Gavin.

“Isn’t that cool?” Gavin asked, his eyes lit up with wonder. “A real caveman, looks like he isn’t even dead at all! I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

“Neither have I. It’s a phony article, Gavin. They exaggerate in the news all the time. This is one of the most blatant lies I’ve seen in a paper yet.” Ray said dismissively, looking out of the window.

Gavin deflated, his excitement draining. “But it sounds cool, anyway,” he tried to play off his excitement, pretending he’d never believed it. “I suppose the picture is a fake too, then. Oh well. So where should we go, should we see a movie? Let’s go see Spiderman, Ray!”

“Damn, you’re hyper today!” Ray laughed, the comment making Gavin chuckle as well. They both paused when Ray’s stomach grumbled. He put a hand to his stomach, as if he’d forgotten all about it. “Hmm. It might be time for me to get something to eat.”

Gavin’s face turned smug. “I told you to eat something this morning, you dope!”

“I wasn’t hungry! And all you had was toast, how are you not hungry?” Ray defended himself. Gavin shrugged.

They opted to get an early lunch at McDonalds. Getting a separate booth away from everyone, Gavin started talking about the librarian again. “You really didn’t think she was pretty?” Ray shook his head with a shrug. “Oh. Well, I guess she was a little plain. Still, hot for a librarian.” After a silence, Gavin said “You should get another phone for your personal life.”

Ray looked up from his cheeseburger. “Huh? I have a phone.”

Gavin countered “I know, but you use that to call the Captain, it’s an X-Ray phone. What about your personal life? Do you call your mum with that phone?”

Ray shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

Gavin cried out in surprise. “Ray, if someone gets a hold of your number, people can trace you, and everyone will know who we both are!”

“Gavin, the only person who contacts me from the police is Captain Whirrel, and he already knows us. I don’t think he’s going around spilling our secret to anyone.” Ray pointed out. Gavin considered that for a moment before asking “What name did you register your phone under? If you registered with your real name, then if the Mad King got a hold of your number somehow, he will know who you are. If you registered as X-Ray, then you can’t use it as a personal phone because your superhero name will pop up on caller ID. Either way, you need at least two phones.” Gavin seemed proud of his logic.

Ray simply replied with a “No. I can’t afford a second phone right now, so I’ll just deal with it.” Then he went back to his burger.

“All you need to do is buy a cheap prepaid phone and use that for the hero line. I think that’s what they do in the movies. And besides, what if some pretty girl came up to you right now and wanted to get your number, what would you do? You can’t give her the hero number, can you?” Gavin argued, but by now Ray was only humoring him.

“I’d just take her number then,” he replied.

“How? Then she’d still have your number when you called.”

“Nuh-uh. Payphone.” Ray was joking, of course, but Gavin took his answer quite literally.

There was a pause between the two as Gavin stared at Ray in disbelief, as if he had suddenly grown a second head. “Wh-WHAT?!” Gavin squawked. “Ray, you would not! You can’t just call a girl from a payphone, it’s not proper!”

Ray shrugged. “I’m not getting a second phone. It would cost too much, and I’m just too lazy to keep up with two phones. I think I can take my chances here, because I don’t think that Captain Whirrel will rat us out.”

Gavin didn’t give up. “A bloody flip phone, Ray! A prepaid flip phone, it’s not so hard to keep up with!”

“Gavin…” Ray put his hand to his face, tiring of the subject. “If you want a second phone, you can get one. I will not. Do you wanna go see Spiderman? It starts in twenty minutes, come on.” As Ray predicted, Gavin got all excited about going to the movies and forgot all talk about second phones.

Meanwhile, back at the station, Detective Wells had managed to talk one of his friends into interviewing Stark. Whirrel and Wells both stood in the observation room adjacent to the interview room, watching through the one-way mirror again. Every now and then during the conversation, Wells would nod in understanding. The Captain, although not necessarily understanding the relevance of some of the questions asked, watched with a keen interest. Whirrel was a man of constant improvement, always taking time to better himself when possible, and the human mind in particular had always fascinated him.

Listening to Stark speak about the day in question from a purely observational standpoint, the Captain was starting to believe that maybe he really wasn’t aware of his actions that day. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t spent the past three hours pacing the hallways waiting for him to crack (which Whirrel was willing to admit, may have put him in a sour mood the other day).

He turned to Wells casually. “So you were a psych minor, huh? What can you tell me from their conversation so far?”

Wells laughed. “They’re not speaking in code, Captain. You know about as much as I do. The only thing I’m noticing is his lack of focus after stopping at the library. If you want my opinion, I think he was in a hypnotic state when he was holding up that bank.”

The Captain raised an eyebrow. “Hypnosis? All witnesses claimed that he was angry when X-Ray took that first camera out. I thought hypnotism made people seem emotionless and calm.”

“There are different types of hypnosis, Captain. But I’m almost positive that he wasn’t acting on his own will, nor can he remember those actions now. We’re about to get a professional opinion to weigh in,” Wells commented as his friend exited the interview room and joined them in the observation room. Stark didn’t resist this time as they led him off to his cell for the time being. “What do you think, Bremer?” he asked.

Bremer was a short and wiry man with neatly trimmed brown hair. He looked up at Wells through his wire-rimmed glasses and commented, “Based on my first impression, I’d say that he wasn’t in control of himself at the time of the crimes. He seems to be mentally sound otherwise, but this anomalous event is making him question himself. I’m requesting a second interview at a later date, to determine this further. He wasn’t able to speak about the attempted robbery or holding those people hostage at all, so I’d like to use hypnosis and try to get at the heart of the matter.” He pushed his glasses up as he glanced at the Captain.

“Your friend Wells was just telling me that hypnosis might be the reason Stark is in here in the first place. What are your thoughts on that, Doctor?” Whirrel asked, curious.

Bremer nodded. “It’s very possible that he was under hypnotic influence during the crime. In fact, it seems most likely to be that, but…”

A pause. Both Wells and Whirrel stared down at the psychiatrist, waiting. “But…?” the detective encouraged.

Bremer seemed hesitant to say what was on his mind. “…Like I said before, it’s too early for me to tell, and I’d like another look at the man if you don’t mind, but there’s something wrong here. Something that doesn’t feel quite right. Call it my intuition.”

Wells looked back and forth between Whirrel and Bremer. “Well, Captain. It’s your call if you want to let Dr. Bremer come back a second time. I would recommend it, it might help our case out a lot.”

Whirrel nodded. “Of course, doctor. You can come back for a second interview, but I would prefer that you do so soon. After all, if he can’t be held responsible, I don’t want to keep him from his family for too long. I wonder if Stark can even be tried for the crimes if he wasn’t conscious at the time.”

Wells chimed in. “He can use an automatism defense, if he really was under hypnosis. Depending on the circumstances.”

“Hmm, this is turning out to be interesting. And I thought it was a simple caught red-handed case.” Whirrel commented.

Bremer smiled politely. “I will be seeing you soon. Captain. Henry.” He nodded to both in turn and then left the room.

Whirrel turned to the detective. “Let’s hope your friend finds out something about this soon. I don’t want to send an innocent man to jail and separate him from his family. So right now what I wanna know is who could have done it. Who is capable of using hypnotic victims for a crime? Who had motive, and opportunity to turn Stark into a tool of their use?”

Wells knew where the Captain was leading to. “You think it was the Mad King then. I hate to break it to you, Captain, but human beings are more susceptible to hypnosis than you might think. Under the right circumstances and with the right influence, anybody could have done it. We probably won’t know any more for sure until Bremer’s next visit.”

“What do you think he was going to say? Right before he hesitated, as if he was hiding something.” Whirrel commented.

The detective could only shrug. “I couldn’t tell you, Captain. Your guess is as good as mine.”

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Father Goeff wandered the streets aimlessly, until he found himself downtown. It had been a few hours since his last bottle of booze, and the effects were starting to wear off. It was evening time and as the sun set behind him the street lights started popping on one by one, almost as if they were leading his way.

Sometimes he liked to sit and observe the people walking along the sidewalk, every once in a while he would recognize a person from a previous vision. He was used to them by now, the visions. He remembered how once, a long time ago, he’d been afraid of them, but now he just embraced his gift and spoke to anyone that was willing to hear about them. Very few people were, which was understandable. Most people thought he was just drunk and talking out of his head, not willing to consider that he may be saying something truthful to them.

He remembered how he used to consider going to a psychiatrist and talking about the things he saw in these visions. He used to call them “dreams, just vivid dreams” not wanting to acknowledge them for what they really were. One time in particular, when he was down at the station…

But that’s a tale for another time, because now as Goeff remembers that day, he can’t help but think back on his life before. “Welp, time for another round of alcohol,” he sighs in a tired voice as it all comes back to him. The smiles and happy shouts of laughter as he raced through the house during a game of tag. Loving cuddles on the porch swing at the front of his house. Then the inevitable horror as everything he’d ever loved burned away before his eyes. Nothing left but blazing fire.

He didn’t want to remember, the end gave every other memory a bittersweet taste, and he was sure that he’d rather forget. He trudged along in a diligent search for anyone who was willing to buy him another bottle when amongst the crowd of people walking along he glimpsed two faces that he happened to recognized. Whether they were known to him before or not quite yet he wasn’t able to recall. Sometimes it was hard to tell what had already happened versus what was yet to come for him. All he knew is that he had seen them somewhere before, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had something important to say to them, or would have something important to say, someday.

Both men were walking along, arguing about going to a bar. Bits of their conversation were audible to him, and he approached them on a whim. “Hell, maybe they’ll buy me a round,” he thought to himself. As if on cue, their names popped into his mind. Gavin Free. Ray Narvaez. He’d met them before, in his old life, back when he was Geoff (Oh, to be Geoff again! He really needed that alcohol right now).

Ray saw him approaching before Gavin did, and seemed to involuntarily shrink in apprehension. Goeff hardly knew what he was saying, but without thinking he addressed them. “It’s a shame, to have to hide all the time. Isn’t it?” He said so in a kind and understanding voice, as he came to a realization of who and what they were. He knew them, knew the burden of hiding in public sight, and so he understood them.

Both men turned to him, Gavin slightly flustered and Ray much more so. Ray pulled Gavin along, and they left without saying a word. Goeff was left to stand under the streetlights alone, searching for an antidote to incurable heartbreak. Alcohol would suffice.


	5. Introductions

A heated discussion arose between Gavin and Ray. Ray wanted to go home for the day. Gavin was trying to convince Ray to go to the bar with him. “It’ll be fun, Ray! Come on, you can try drinking with me this one time!” Gavin was saying in an animated voice.

Ray shook his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. You know I don’t care for drinking. What would I do, watch you get wasted while I sit on the stool next to you, twiddling my thumbs? No thanks.”

Gavin made a frustrated groan as he argued with his friend. “No, just have a drink with me! One drink, that’s all.”

Ray crossed his arms stubbornly. “Nope. I don’t want to watch you make a fool of yourself, and I don’t want to join you either.”

“Aww, come on, stop being so difficult! You’re not my mum!” Gavin grumbled in resentment.

“Sometimes I wonder.” Ray sighed. He was then momentarily distracted when he spotted Geoff walking toward them from the corner of his eye. 

“What?” Gavin asked, turning to look at what Ray was staring at, wondering why he suddenly gave up on the argument. Both men watched at Geoff clumsily shuffled up to them for reasons unknown. Ray found himself hunched over slightly, an uncomfortable feeling growing inside him.

“It’s a shame, to have to hide all the time. Isn’t it?” he asked kindly. Ray gave him a look of bewilderment at the comment. Even Gavin looked significantly spooked by Geoff.

Not knowing what else he could do, Ray grabbed Gavin’s arm and started pulling him away, not sure what to say. All he knew in that moment was that Geoff seemed to know something about him and Gavin, and while it shouldn’t have bothered him at all he found the thought discomforting. He felt the need to run and took the opportunity, leaving the older man standing there on the sidewalk, a kind smile still on his face as he watched them pull away. As if he forgave them for something still unknown.

All thoughts of going to the bar were abandoned as Gavin and Ray found themselves riding a bus to their apartment. “That was kind of creepy. What was he on about? We aren’t hiding, Ray.” Gavin was saying, wondering if Ray knew more than he was saying. After all, Ray had suddenly become intimidated by the older man. Gavin had never seen Ray intimidated by anyone, save for the Mad King.

Ray shook his head. “He was just drinking too much, I guess. Same as always,” he tried to nonchalantly brush off the event, but Gavin could tell that he was clearly shaken.

Getting off the bus, Ray trailed behind Gavin, wondering if he talk to the Brit about what was on his mind. “Gavin, I think he knows about us.” Ray finally admitted as they entered the apartment. 

Gavin turned a concerned eye on Ray. “Is that what you’ve been so worried about? It’s cool, we kind of used to know Geoff. I don’t think he’s any danger to us,” he tried to reason, hoping that his words would be reassuring.

Ray gave Gavin an uncomfortable half-smile. “I guess, I just don’t like the idea, that’s all.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds too long before both said goodnight and entered their respective rooms. Ray’s thoughts were constantly turned toward Geoff and wondered why he was so worried about Geoff knowing their secret. Gavin, on the other hand, was only concerned for Ray, not sure what was going through his best friend’s mind. An uneasy sleep settled over the apartment, and that night both men experienced an uncomfortable dream of a dark tomorrow.

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There is a dark, obscure little bar on the corner of a less traveled road downtown. This humble bar did very little business, to the point that it was a wonder how it was still open at all. Yet every day, without fail, this quaint little bar would open its simple doors, and once in a while an unsuspecting soul would wander in for a drink amidst the small crowd of regulars.

Behind the bar is the charming bartender and owner of the establishment, James Ryan Haywood. His calm demeanor and quick wit puts the few regular patrons at ease, all of which tell him so on a daily basis. They wonder why his establishment isn’t more popular. He merely smiles and thanks them for their loyalty.

On this particular evening, a local drunk that Haywood recognizes to be Geoff Ramsey pays a visit to the counter.

“One Jack Daniel’s on the Rocks,” he orders, then reaches into his tattered pocket for the day’s collection. He found to his dismay that a sizeable rip had let all of his money from the day fall out onto the ground somewhere. He looked behind him to the floor, then glanced out the door in hopes that he’d dropped it just before entering.

Haywood noticed the older man patting at his pockets and searching the floor in vain. Guessing what had happened, he addressed Geoff. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house tonight,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Goeff looked up at the bartender and smiled apologetically. “Thanks. I should probably spend some money on new pants pretty soon.” He studied the man behind the counter, observing light brown hair and blue eyes in a sensible face. Easygoing and calm on the surface, it was no wonder that the few patrons of this bar were loyal to him. But Goeff saw chaos and darkness beneath the still surface of his mind, struck with the image of a beast masquerading as a man. 

Goeff thought that he saw the truth of the man in front of him, felt his raging nature and smiled knowingly up at the mask that he wore. “What’s your name?” he asked casually, still wearing that understanding smile as he brought his drink to his lips.

“It’s Ryan. That’s what everyone calls me, anyway. I think I know you. Geoff isn’t it?” Ryan said, his demeanor never changing though he clearly detected a shift in Geoff. “There’s no reason to kill him,” Ryan reasoned in his mind as he observed the drunk’s movements. He’d heard of Geoff’s talent for intuition, his so-called “prophecies” and though he took such stories with a grain of salt, he recognized that Geoff clearly knew something. 

But the fact that Geoff didn’t fear the animal lurking within fascinated the crime lord, and Ryan grew curious to see what he would do with his newfound information. Ryan was sure that the man had no interest in turning him in, and even if he did so no one would listen to him. His reputation as an alcoholic vastly preceded him in the town and no one took the former hero seriously anymore.

Goeff put the glass back onto the counter with a sigh. “Father Goeff is what I go by now,” he informed Ryan, looking him in the eye. Ryan simply nodded, and then turned his attention to another of the few regulars that had just walked in.

Goeff finished his drink as he watched Ryan deal with the customer. After serving the other customer Ryan came back to Goeff expectantly. “Can I get you anything else?” he offered.

“That’s awfully kind of you, but I really can’t afford anything right now. And you’ve got a business to run, I don’t want to take advantage.” Goeff replied nobly. But he still didn’t move from his bar stool, taking in the comfort of the still air around them.

Ryan chuckled. “It’s fine, I’m feeling… particularly generous tonight.” With that, he poured Goeff another drink and set it down in front of him.

Goeff accepted without complaint, his need for alcohol urging him on. “This is a nice place you have,” he commented as he took another sip. “A good place to reflect, on the pain of a loss.” He watched Ryan’s face as he spoke, wondering if he would react. He observed for a fraction of a second a flicker over Ryan’s face, the wounded beast below reacting. But then it was gone, and anyone without Goeff’s intuition would think they imagined it.

The bartender chuckled darkly. “Well ‘Father’, I won’t ask how you know about that,” Ryan replied, clearly amused by his bravery. “I assume you see a lot that you can’t explain. I’ve heard that you’re a prophet, is that right?”

Instead of answering, Goeff took another long sip from his drink before meeting Ryan’s icy blue eyes. “Is that what they’re saying about me? I suppose they’re not wrong.” Goeff then smiled up at Ryan. “You’re a very careful man,” he observed.

Ryan’s eyes shifted to the nearby patron to make sure he wasn’t listening before he leaned over the bar to respond. “It’s necessary in my line of work.”

“Bartending?” Both men exchanged a knowing look.

Ryan fought down the sudden feeling of loyalty to the man in front of him, thinking “Careful now, can’t trust him just yet. What is this guy playing at, anyway?” Ryan leaned back and away from the prophet, as if deciding on something before he spoke again. “You’re welcome anytime. In fact, I encourage you to come back. Maybe during the day, around eleven?” It sounded like an invitation.

Goeff raised an eyebrow. “Thought you were closed that early.”

Ryan smiled. “A special visit, then. Please, drop by tomorrow if you can.” With that, Ryan turned away and started to tend to his other customers. A few more locals were starting to drift in, seeking shelter from the drizzling rain that had just begun outside. Because of the sudden rain, there were more people than usual in the lonely bar.

“Trying to recruit me?” Goeff questioned as Ryan walked to greet the newcomers.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Ryan dismissed him nonchalantly, not bothering to turn around, perhaps afraid to face the man again and feel that deepening connection that had already started to grow. If anything could be said about this “Goeff”, he was good at earning one’s trust.

Goeff didn’t stay much longer. After a minute, he drained his glass and wandered outside into the ever-increasing rain. Ryan watched him leave from the corner of his eye and then found himself letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Detective Wells was taking statements from the mental hospital staff when a disgruntled pair of men dressed in ridiculous costumes walked up to the scene. He ended his conversation with one of the nurses to address them. “Alright, fellas, I don’t know where you think you’re going dressed in that get-up, but this is an official crime scene. You can’t just walk up-”

The younger man dressed in green interrupted and said “Um, the Captain was expecting us, he’s the one that called us over,” he tried to explain. “We consult on cases sometimes, maybe you’ve heard of us? X-Ray and Vav.”

“OR Vav and X-Ray,” the other man said in a British accent.

Wells looked at the duo thoughtfully. “So you’re the local heroes, huh? I’ve heard about you. Follow me, the Captain is this way.” He started walking into the hospital reception room and both men followed behind. He tried talking to them as they walked down the hallway. “Sorry about that, I didn’t know the Captain called you over. You guys don’t carry ID or anything, do you?”

“What kind of bloody question is that? Do I look like I’m carrying an ID? Where would I fit my wallet?” Vav snapped.

“Seems I’ve made a bad impression,” Wells observed in a neutral tone. All three men entered an elevator, and Wells pushed a button for one of the higher levels.

X-Ray shook his head. “Don’t mind him, he’s just irritated because we had to take like two buses, and then walk the rest of the way here. It was quite a walk,” he commented lightly, although it was obvious that he was equally annoyed. They walked out of the elevator. A sign hanging overhead announced that they were in the maximum security psychiatric ward.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That is annoying. You guys don’t have a vehicle? I’d talk to someone about that. Maybe we can arrange to get you a squad car or something,” Wells said as they walked down yet another hallway.

“No, it’s fine. We’re working on the car situation,” X-Ray explained.

They stopped in front of one of the patient rooms. Wells motioned them in before him. There was a bit of blood on the usually-sterile white floor, and Captain Whirrel was standing over it in observation as he spoke with the head of security. When he spotted X-Ray and Vav, he rose from his kneeling position on the floor. “Well, well. I was wondering when you boys would get here.”

“This place is a little out of our way,” X-Ray explained. He and Vav moved further into the room, also inspecting the blood on the floor. There wasn’t enough of it to be fatal.

Before either X-Ray or Vav could ask the question on their minds, Whirrel said “Pattillo’s gone.”

X-Ray nodded. “I figured as much. He would find a way out of here, wouldn’t he?” Another pause, and then he finally asked “Was anyone killed?”

Whirrel shook his head. “No. One of the doctors was wounded, but nothing too serious. He’s getting patched up downstairs.” 

Vav happened to glance up at a piece of notebook paper that was hanging on the wall. Written in messy handwriting was the message “Dr. Beardo was here”. He bit his bottom lip and looked at X-Ray. “I saw,” was all his partner said.

Whirrel started filling them in. “We’re just about done here, since you came about an hour late. We’ve already talked to most of the staff that was on duty, and it’s the same story from everyone. He managed to knock them all out somehow.”

“Well, that’s not much of a surprise, Jack is a genius. According to his criminal profile, he excelled in chemistry, and he was a great inventor. I wouldn’t be surprised if he created some device or chemical compound to knock everyone out.” X-Ray responded. 

Whirrel quirked an eyebrow at him. “According to his profile. You didn’t need to read his profile to know that. If memory serves, the two of you knew him pretty well.”

Vav looked everywhere but the Captain’s face when he replied, embarrassed. “Yeah, we worked for ‘im, actually.”

Whirrel turned to Wells, who was still standing outside of the room, waiting. “Tell the boys to wrap it. We’re done here.” Wells nodded and turned to follow orders. “I appreciate you both coming down here, no matter how late. I’m gonna keep you updated on the case, considering you both had a personal history with the man.”

They all started to file out of the room. X-Ray turned to the Captain as if he’d just remembered something. “Oh, so did you ever get anything out of that Stark guy?”

Captain Whirrel shrugged. “We have a psychiatrist evaluating him today. He should be done by the time I get back to the station, so I’ll find out then. Again, if there’s anything involving the Mad King, I’ll let you know.”

As both heroes left the mental hospital, Vav muttered “Our boss is going to have our head when he finds out how long we’ve been gone for ‘lunch’!” It was a long walk to the nearest bus station.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

When Whirrel and Wells got back to the police station, Bremer was waiting for them. He had just concluded his second interview with Stark, and seemed to be in a state of agitation. “Captain. Henry,” he greeted when he saw them, then there was a long pause as he considered what he should say first.

Whirrel was the first to break the silence. “That’s not a good look. What is it, doctor?”

Bremer sighed. “As you know, I was trying to break into Mr. Stark’s subconscious through use of a counter-hypnotic technique. It should have cancelled out any hypnotic suggestion that he had received previously.”

When he stopped talking again, Whirrel grew impatient. “Did something happen?” he pressed.

“You could say that. I used every technique that I could think of, but I just couldn’t break up the suggestion. His clarity ends around the same time he enters the library. I wasn’t able to get him to speak about anything past that event. It doesn’t seem to be a state of hypnosis under, what you would call natural means. It’s hard to say, but taking into account the fact that even under hypnosis he wasn’t able to give us a name or detailed account, I’d say that this influence seems to have a strong hold on the man. Even now I’m not entirely sure that he’s free from it. It almost seems to have been a…” he hesitated again, grasping for the right word in his intelligent mind. “…A supernatural force.”

The Captain couldn’t contain the sharp laugh that escaped him. “Supernatural? Dr. Bremer, I’m surprised that someone at your level of expertise can still suggest such a thing. I mean no disrespect, of course, but I would think that there is a more scientific explanation before we jump straight to folk tales and such.”

Bremer did seem momentarily offended, but decided not to hold it against the Captain. Being a strong believer in science himself, he couldn’t blame Whirrel for the disbelief. “Normally, I would agree with you. But there are things about the human mind, and things in this world that go beyond the realm of explanation, in my experience. I don’t mean supernatural in the Hollywood sense, although as human beings when we see something that we can’t immediately explain, we label it as supernatural. Right now, I don’t know what else to say about it either.

Whirrel was in awe. “Well I’ll be damned. So if the hypnosis was that powerful, I wonder who could be behind it. I’m sorry by the way Dr. Bremer,” he called as Bremer opened the door to leave the room. “I didn’t mean to insult you before.”

“It’s ok, Captain Whirrel. I understand. I’m afraid that’s all the insight that I have to offer. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help to you.” Bremer nodded as he left the room.

Wells waited a minute before saying ‘Captain, I was just as surprised as you were when Bremer suggested supernatural hypnosis. But Bremer knows his stuff, he’s good at what he does. Not saying he’s right or wrong, but if he’s suggesting something then I’m willing to believe what he says.”

“You trust his judgment that much?” Whirrel asked, to which the detective nodded firmly. He sighed and ran a hand through his graying hair. “Either way, it sounds like we need to investigate this library further.” He turned to go to his office. “Wells, I’m trusting you with this. Finish up the paperwork on the Pattillo case and head for that library. Keep it low-key.”

Wells sighed but agreed. “Sure thing, Captain.” Then he started walking to his desk to write up the case report as quickly as his fingers would allow him. But with all of the witness accounts to write and the criminal profile to update, he knew it would probably take a while.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Ray and Gavin were just getting home from a long and annoying day of work. Their boss didn’t take their long break very well, and ended up breathing down their necks all afternoon. Ray walked into the living room and switched on their GameCube. But Gavin was still lingering near the door as if he was about to leave again. “Gavin, what are you doing?” Ray asked curiously.

Gavin jumped as if he’d been caught doing something embarrassing. “Huh? Oh, nothing, just… Nothing.”

Ray looked at him from over the back of the couch. “I thought we could play a few rounds of Super Smash Bros, but are you going somewhere?”

Gavin was obviously hiding something. “Oh, yeah we can play. I just, ehm, I’ve gotta go out for something first.”

A smile spread across Ray’s face as he watched Gavin squirm. “Are you going back to that library?”

Gavin squawked in surprise. “What?! No! Don’t follow me!” he yelled all at once before sprinting out the door, leaving Ray alone in the living room, laughing to himself as he set up a single player match in the meantime.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Gavin stepped into the library tentatively. He didn’t see Korah behind the desk. Looking around in hesitation, he finally decided to walk fully into the lobby of the library. Turning to his left, he walked into the room that housed the fiction books. “Surely, she must be in here somewhere,” he thought to himself as he pretended to look through the bookshelves. After ten minutes he considered giving up his search and heading home when he finally saw her.

Korah was sporting another modest retro outfit. She still wore thick-rimmed glasses that concealed her eyes, and her dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail. She was putting away an armload of books when Gavin finally caught her eye. 

She smiled when she saw him. “Ah, it’s the detective. Sorry, I don’t remember your name.” She continued putting books on the shelf in front of her.

“Gavin,” he reminded her and held out his hands to help.

She gave him a strange look. 

“I’m offering to help!”

“You’re not getting a cent of my paycheck!” she teased. The stack of books she held before were now gone, placed properly on the bookshelf. “Did you have any more questions to ask me?”

“Yes,” he leaned against the bookcase, testing it first to make sure it wouldn’t fall over on him. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d made a mess in a library. “Has anyone showed you around town yet?”

She smiled. “I’ve looked around a little… I’m still getting used to where everything is, though.” Korah admitted.

“I’m still willing to be your tour guide, if you want.” Gavin offered, trying to sound nonchalant.

An exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, I guess I could use one. When are you free?” Korah asked, amused by his persistence.

Gavin immediately tapped his pockets for paper and something to write with. He came up with an old receipt from the convenience store and a pen running low on ink. He wrote out his phone number with some difficulty and handed her the slip of paper. “Just call me when you want to go. Here’s my number.” Smooth, Free, very smooth.

Korah accepted the slip of paper with a chuckle. “Ok, thanks. I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Gavin wasn’t looking at Korah now, but over her shoulder. The detective that he’d met earlier in the day seemed to be making inquiries of the library staff. “Time to leave, Free,” he thought to himself as he turned to walk around the bookcases and hopefully unnoticed out the door on the other side. “Hey, I’ve gotta go, but definitely call me! I’d love to show you around!” he said and spun around as if he were escaping from something. 

Korah thought it was a bit odd but just shrugged it off. He seemed a bit strange to begin with, but not necessarily in a bad way. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she pocketed the slip of paper he’d given her and turned around. A man in his mid-thirties flashed a badge at her and said “Detective Wells, police. May I ask you a few questions?”

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Jack Pattillo kept his head down as he walked along the crowded downtown streets. His faithful former lab assistant had kindly helped him locate some clothes so he could change out of his hospital wear and blend in better with the crowd. 

He was on his way to a hiding spot where he’d stashed away a large portion of his money, just in case he’d be on the run one day. As it turned out, his back-up plan had been a good one. As he walked quickly to retrieve his money, he passed a newspaper stand. There were several headlines referencing some sort of amazing scientific find, a perfectly preserved caveman. The team leader of the scientists was on every front page, her bright smile surprisingly vivid on the printed page. 

Jack realized that he’d met her before. “Lindsay Tuggey. I knew she’d go off to do great things. And what a find!” he thought to himself, his scientific mind processing the bit of news, working it into his plans. “Unfortunately Lindsay, I’m going to have to take it from you. Sorry.”

He started to prioritize his plan. “Step one, find a location and set up a base of operations. Step two, steal the caveman specimen, just because it looks cool. Step three, locate the Mad King and make him pay for leaving me to rot in the asylum.” Upon further reflection, he realized that he’d settle for jumping straight to step three.


	6. An Epic Confrontation, part 1

Ryan slipped into his bar early the next morning, having some business to tend to before Goeff could get there. Slipping an intricate medallion around his neck as he cautiously walked down to his cellar, the Mad King came alive within. He took a thorough look around his cellar before slipping through a hidden entrance to his base of operations. He’d learned a long time ago to never let his guard down, not even in his own domain.

Descending deeper, farther under the streets of the city, his eyes were ever alert to any strange movement around him. His hand rested on his Glock 21 pistol, a trophy from one of the first men he killed in a gunfight.

Waiting for him below was his right hand man, code-named “Edgar 1” or just “E-1” for convenience. E-1 looked up when he heard approaching, ready to pull out a weapon to defend the base, but upon seeing that it was the Mad King, he relaxed. He waited for the boss to address him before he spoke.

The Mad King nodded to E-1. “I trust that everything is in order?” he said as he eyed the pile of papers waiting to be reviewed at his desk.

E-1 got right down to business. “There’s a trade agreement in there from Deagon for you to look over. If we smuggle a shipment through to them, they’re willing to pay over our usual rate.”

“Sounds like an important shipment,” the Mad King observed, flipping through the pages and running a lazy eye over the contents. “What else?”

“We received compensation from Trumso for the last coke run. The one where we lost five of our guys because of the damn cops,” E-1 was especially bitter about that, he’d lost a cousin in the shootout. “There are dozens of requests there.”

The crime boss looked up briefly with an unreadable look. “I’m sorry for your loss, by the way. I’ll see to it that you get forty percent of the compensation.” Then looking back through the papers, shuffling through them briefly. “I’ll look these over now. Go keep an eye on the bar. Let me know if anyone stops by at eleven, but don’t kill him. I’m expecting someone, calls himself Father Goeff.” The Mad King sat at his desk, dismissing E-1 with a wave of his hand.

E-1 paused at this, it was an odd request. The Mad King didn’t usually take visitors, unless they were potential business partners or customers. E-1 had heard about this Father Goeff before, knew that he was a local man, an alcoholic. What the Mad King had to do with such a man puzzled him. But he shrugged and did as he was told, climbing the steps up to the bar’s cellar. It wasn’t his job to question the boss, nor was it a smart idea to do so.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Around 9:30, the Mad King was interrupted from his train of thought by the sound of footsteps coming down the steps to his left. He wondered if Goeff had decided to drop in early for some reason. But why would E-1 bring him down to the base? Those hadn’t been his instructions. Something didn’t feel right in the crime lord’s gut, and he drew out his beloved pistol just in case, aiming carefully at the end of the stairwell.

E-1 walked down the stairs first, holding out a hand to his boss. “It’s ok, it’s me, sir. There’s a guest here for you, she said it was urgent.”

The Mad King lowered his pistol but raised an eyebrow as a woman sauntered down the steps close behind E-1. The right-hander’s eyes seemed stuck to the unknown visitor. Something about her stopped the beast from firing at her on sight. He set his pistol on his desk, where it would be within reach if he needed it, and beckoned the woman forward.

She smirked as she approached, her dark waves bouncing as she walked. Her face was obscured by an old-fashioned netted hat that she wore. The Mad King allowed his eyes to study her, taking note of the plunging neckline of the vintage red wiggle dress she wore. His eyes were inevitably drawn to the ancient charm hanging around her neck on a chain. Finally done admiring her, he spoke. “You’ve got guts, walking into the base of a crime boss unannounced. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, the Mad King thought that he noticed E-1’s hand twitch as if toward his weapon at the threat. Outwardly, he kept an even expression, but inside the beast felt partly bewildered by the action, partly betrayed by one of his closest men. Who _was_ this woman, anyway? He was inclined to kill them both right now, but couldn’t bring himself to pick up his gun. No, he had to be imagining it; E-1 wouldn’t threaten him.

The woman smiled deviously. “Because you’re impressed. I’m the first to find you since you went underground.”

The Mad King returned her smile. “That’s not enough of a reason to not kill you.” As he spoke, his hand ghosted over his pistol in a final warning.

The woman’s smile faded as she assessed the seriousness of the situation. She waved a hand downward as if she was signaling for something, but there was no one else in the room but her, the crime boss and his right-hand man. Surely, she couldn’t possibly be signaling E-1. “Enough of this,” he thought as he was about to force himself to pick up his pistol.

“Aren’t you curious how I found you? I thought you’d at least want to know that,” the woman asked, trying to keep control of her faltering voice. The Mad King couldn’t help but pause at that. Yes, he was definitely curious. But was curiosity enough?

Suddenly, he smirked up at her. Of course it was, there was no reason to be rash about this. It might be entertaining.

He stood then. “Where are my manners? I’m sorry miss, I’m not used to such sudden interruptions, but that’s no excuse." She walked forward then, and held out her hand for a handshake. Instead, the beast took hold of her hand and laid a gentle kiss over her knuckles.

Her lips curved into a smile. “I knew there was a gentleman in there somewhere.”

At this close proximity, the Mad King could clearly see her eyes through the netting. He made eye contact and winked in suggestion. “That’s not all there is in there.”

“I can imagine,” she said, then gently freed her hand from his grasp and ran her finger along the intricate pattern on the charm around his neck. “Nice medallion,” she commented with a smirk.

That remark should have worried him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by it. But it was obvious that she knew, somehow. Perhaps later he could find out just how much she knew. For now, he played along. Better friends than enemies, after all.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” the crime boss asked.

“Straight to the point, huh? I’m not surprised.”

The Mad King sighed. He liked games about as much as anyone, but this was getting tiresome. “Are you purposely avoiding the question?”

The smirk dropped from her face. “No.” There was a pause, as she decided how to proceed. “I need your help with something. I’ve heard you were the best at acquiring things.” Another pause. She had seemed so put together up until this point, but now she looked unsure of herself. The beast within started to feel impatient.

“Acquiring what, exactly?” Seriously, this was too long of a distraction, and he had work to do. Time to speed this along.

Finally making up her mind, the woman straightened up and met the monster’s gaze. “I’m a collector, of sorts. I have a special interest in ancient artifacts. Just recently, something remarkable was unearthed, and brought to a research center in this very town.”

The Mad King was starting to understand. “That frozen caveman?” Out of all of the things that he’d been requested to do, this was the most odd. Although, he supposed that stealing corpses was right up his alley.

“You guessed it. I don’t think I have to tell you how rare it is to find an intact and well preserved specimen like that. In fact, before this discovery we all thought it was impossible.”

“Okay, so let’s say I do get this body for you. And I can, by the way, that’s not a problem at all. I give the specimen over to you, and then what? Do you have a place to put it? Because just about everyone in the scientific circle will be searching for it once it’s gone, not to mention the police.” He felt like he was lecturing a child, but he was always thorough when it came to it. He couldn’t count how many times he’d seen a heist or drug trade go wrong from a lack of planning.

She bit her lip as she considered this; just as the Mad King thought, she hadn’t planned that far ahead. “Well, I was hoping you could kind of hold on to it for me until I arranged a place for it. You have plenty of space, don’t you?” she asked.

He simply raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s a big request. Not only am I stealing it, but I’m storing it for you too? I could do it, but let’s talk numbers for a minute. How much are you willing to pay for this little errand?”

 “Well I was thinking $10,000 to start, then we could work out a second arrangement…” Obviously, she was referring to a sexual arrangement. The woman stepped closer into his personal space, in an attempt to be seductive.

It was working, but the Mad King had a strong poker face. Ever the businessman, he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “A very tempting offer, miss. But I really prefer cash payments.”

“Okay, you name your price then. The rest can be purely recreational,” the woman promised. That was more to the monster’s liking. Then, she abruptly checked her watch and smacked her lips as if she were being held up by some mundane errand instead of dealing with a crime lord. “I’m sorry, I really have to run, but we can work out the details later, okay? I assume you want an upfront payment…” She dug into the purse on her shoulder and handed him a big fold of bills. “Hopefully this will be enough. Well, it’s a pleasure doing business with you!”

She was about to turn and walk toward the steps when the Mad King called out “I think you’ve forgotten something. You already know me, but I don’t have that same advantage. What’s your name?”

Another of those heart-wrenching smiles. “Names are so tedious, you know? You can call me K instead.” She quickly rushed up and planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth. This woman was either very brave or out of her mind, but the Mad King found himself admiring her boldness.

He nodded at E-1 to see K out of the room. He listened as their footsteps ascended the stairway, waiting until they had completely faded before he went back to looking through his paperwork.

About an hour afterward, a message tone from his smartphone broke the Mad King from his business. Looking down at the text, he saw that it was E-1. “ _He’s here_ ” was the simple message.

At that, he abandoned his stack of papers again and started walking up to the bar cellar. No reason to reveal his base of operations to the man just yet. Once he was situated away from the hidden door, he messaged E-1 to send him to the cellar. Soon Goeff became visible on the staircase, looking around the cellar in admiration.

“Nice collection you’ve got here,” he commented, impressed. The Mad King nodded in his direction and thanked him for the compliment. “So, you wanted to see me Ryan?” Goeff asked, tilting his head to the side.

The crime lord’s eyes glanced up the stairway to determine whether E-1 was out of earshot, then beckoned Goeff closer. “When I’m not in the bar, it’s best to address me as the Mad King,” he said in a low tone, revealing himself to the drunk.

Goeff didn’t seem surprised. “I know,” he said with a crooked smile. Just as the Mad King had suspected. His secret had been revealed somehow.

He sighed inwardly. It was going to be a pain to interrogate his employees to find out who had loose lips. “I thought so. But I’m wondering how you could have found out?” There was a dangerous edge in his voice. He had wanted to let Goeff live because he was interesting. But after confirming that Goeff knew his real identity, he couldn’t possibly let the poor man live.

Goeff didn’t seem as properly scared as he should have been. “Well, for one thing, those kinds of tricks don’t really work on me. Never have. So don’t worry, none of your men are spilling secrets. When someone can see past your deep subconscious hypnotism, it’s not hard to find you.”

The Mad King really didn’t want to kill Goeff, but he had to be sure that this stayed a secret. He couldn’t explain this bond of trust that he felt with the older man, it had seemed to grow overnight. But still, the crime lord was known for being thorough, and this was no exception. “And I’m supposed to let you just walk around, knowing what you know? I don’t know if I can trust you,” he stated bluntly.

Goeff wasn’t fazed, perhaps he never was. “I won’t tell the police, or anyone else. I doubt they would believe a washed up old drunk, anyway. Besides,” Goeff paused to admire the wine rack on his left. Shaking himself from his distraction, he continued. “I know you’re good at finding people.”

The Mad King waited briefly for an explanation. When Goeff didn’t speak further, he gave the man a quizzical look. “Do you want me to find someone for you?” Who could he possibly be looking for?

Goeff lowered his gaze to the ground. “Whatever the reason, it has to be a personal one,” the beast mused to himself.

“I know you don’t fully trust me yet. Or at least, you don’t trust in trusting me yet. So I won’t ask anything of you right now. I probably can’t afford your services right now anyway. But if I prove myself to you, and I get enough money together…” The broken man raised his eyes to the monster with almost a pleading look. “I’ll give you more details at that time. Maybe by then you will be more inclined to help me.”

The Mad King didn’t speak right away. He was honestly still deciding whether or not he should just kill the man now and get it over with. But then he decided against it. “This is the second time today that I’m foregoing the chance to kill someone in my way. Maybe I’m losing my edge,” he thought to himself.

Goeff didn’t wait for a reply. He smiled that crooked smile again. “Did you bring me down here to kill me?” he asked as if it were a normal question. He didn’t fear death. His worse fears had already been realized, there was nothing left that could damage him further.

The Mad King shook his head, he had decided. “Not today, anyway,” he added, a subtle threat hidden in a joke.

The veiled threat did not escape Goeff, but even so his reply was simple. “Okay.” That smile never left his face.

Before Goeff left, the crime boss offered him one of his top bottles of wine, free of charge. The Mad King would not be known as an ungracious host, no matter who the visitor was. Goeff was happy to accept the gift.

The beast was finally left to the rest of his paperwork. But now he couldn’t focus on it properly. For those two back-to-back visits, both Goeff and K didn’t seem as fearful of him as they should have been. That irritated the beast, and he wondered if he needed to be stricter. After all, in this business perception meant everything. He contemplated that until late afternoon, when he decided to distract himself with the artifact heist. He would make sure that no one would doubt his ferocity again; not his rivals, not the police, and especially not “K”. Whoever she was.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Jack was lounging in a secluded storage area that had been made up to mimic a temporary living space. The storage shed belonged to his former assistant, Caiti Ward. After breaking out, he didn’t have anywhere to go, and so he stopped by the young woman’s house hoping for a place to stay. “I expect the police to come and question me anytime!” she had replied, and instead set up a makeshift bed for him in the shed.

He appreciated the effort, though. Truth be told, he had always had a soft spot for the aspiring scientist and her idealistic ways. Besides, this way he had some privacy to plot out the downfall of the Mad King, and he would have some warning to flee in case the police did show up with a search warrant.

“I should really go see this caveman specimen everyone is fussing over. I’d like a closer look to ascertain whether or not it’s actually authentic,” he said aloud to himself. He did this often, even more so after his time spent in confinement at that psychiatric institution; he loved to hear himself talk.

“But first, I need a disguise,” he murmured, tapping his finger to his chin. Then he sighed; he missed his beard.

 Before he was institutionalized, he had grown an infamous beard that earned him the nickname “Dr. Beardo” from two of his lab workers. Once in the mental hospital, however, he’d been forced to shave it off for some weird technicality. Even worse was when he was sent to the criminally insane ward; he hadn’t even been able to shave himself. “Suicidal risk” was their excuse, even though he wasn’t suicidal. They were probably more worried about what he would do to them he got ahold of a blade. They had every right to feel threatened, he thought to himself bitterly.

He decided to throw on some clothes that Caiti had kindly bought for him when she found out he would be staying with her. Then he combed his unkempt hair and put on some dark clip-on shades to hide his eyes. For his final touch, a hooded rain jacket over his head. “It looks like it’s going to rain anyway. It won’t look out of place,” he tried to reason with himself. It was way too hot for him to wear a regular hooded sweatshirt, so the raincoat would have to do.

Before he left for the local science museum (it had to be there, it was the only scientific research center around, and the place that employed Lindsay Tuggey) he knocked on the back door of the house. Caiti came to the door and looked up at her mentor with a quizzical look, probably wondering why he was dressed so strangely. “Did you need something, Dr. Pattillo?” she asked in her Australian accent.

Jack shook his head. “No, no. Thank you, Caiti, you’ve done more than enough for me. I was just wondering, were you able to ever get a look at Lindsay’s most recent “artifact”? I saw something about it in the papers earlier today.”

He watched her look change to one of concern. She knew him too well, and she knew why he was asking. “Yes, I got a look at him. But Jack… Dr. Pattillo I mean… I don’t think you should venture out anywhere right now. The police will be looking for you, and—”

“Caiti.” He held up a hand to silence her. “I’m just going to take a look. I’ve got a disguise…” Caiti’s eyebrows scrunched together as she scrutinized his pathetic outfit. “…And I just want to see this great scientific marvel with my own eyes. And look for any exploitable flaws, of course.”

Caiti let out a tired sigh, but before Jack could take off, she held something out to him. “Here.”

“Huh?” Jack looked down and saw a smartphone sitting in the palm of her hand. He looked back up, not understanding.

“Just take it. I always kept a second phone, just in case, you know…” Her eyes were on the ground in embarrassment, and her voice lowered. “Just in case you came back.”

Jack felt his cheeks burning as he accepted the phone. “Thanks, Caiti. You always take me by surprise.”

As he walked away from the house, Caiti called after him. “My number is already programmed in, so call if you get into trouble!”

Instead of risking a bus ride where he might be identified, Jack decided to walk the long route around the science museum. He kept to the shadows and back alleys when he could, keeping his head down whenever he was exposed to the downtown crowds. Luckily, it had begun to rain a little, so his wardrobe choice didn’t seem out of place. A little geeky, sure, but perfectly acceptable.

He was contemplating whether or not he should risk trying the back entranceway, since theoretically he knew how to get in without being spotted by too many people (he used to be an honored member of the museum board, back before the accident that everyone claims took his sanity). But as he neared the building, he saw that the museum was already in an uproar.

There was a large crowd gathered around a police barrier, and the authorities were trying to keep people away from the building. Jack was too stubborn to leave just because the police were there; he told Caiti he would see the specimen, and dammit he was going to see it!

It seemed that Jack had no choice now; to the secret path he would go. Not that it was really a secret so much as forbidden to the public. He was betting that the police hadn’t blocked it off. When he neared the back entrance, he saw that the front was much more guarded. The two guards in back were easy to disarm, and just like that, he was in. He even had weapons to defend himself with. “Time to find out what’s going on in here,” he thought to himself.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

X-Ray and Vav were at the science museum as soon as they could get there. The police were vacating the building under the premise that there was a fire hazard in the basement that they were currently investigating. It was obviously a lie.

One look at X-Ray told Vav the whole story. “The Mad King?” He felt a tremor shake through his body involuntarily, in fear. Please, not the Mad King…

X-Ray nodded. “That’s why we’re here, buddy. Here…” he handed Vav something.

Vav took what looked like a mask from his hands, confused. “What’s this?”

The Puerto Rican shook his head. “A mask, stupid. For your annoying face, so maybe we won’t have to worry about you being found out by the police like the other day. Hopefully no one will remember you. And try deepening your voice, like Batman. Your accent is already distinct enough as it is.”

Vav still looked confused. X-Ray sighed. “Look, it was that or a paper bag." A pause. Then, "You were right, about us having to be more careful. I especially don’t want the Mad King to recognize us, which he might if he sees your face again. I’m not getting another phone just yet, but maybe later… Stop staring at me and just wear it, ok?”

Vav tried it on. “Hey, it fits! The nose is a bit tight, though. But still, it works. Cheers, X-Ray!” He seemed really happy about it.

“Shut up,” X-Ray sounded embarrassed. The duo walked into the building. The Captain saw them and motioned for them to follow him. He shot a strange glance at Vav and his new mask, but said nothing about it. They all walked together down the steep steps of the museum toward the back of the building, into the museum basement (which also doubled as the research center, not open to the public).

That’s when the bodies started popping up. There seemed to be a ceasefire at the moment, but dead and injured officers were scattered across the rooms and hallway. One of the bodies wasn’t in uniform.

Before either hero could react, Captain Whirrel explained. “One of the Mad King’s men. He called in the tip, and his boss rewarded him for it.” The body was absolutely riddled with bullet holes, and his face was unrecognizable. The Mad King was getting more vicious.

Right now the Mad King himself was holed up in the building with what was left of his five men. They had Dr. Tuggey’s cave specimen in the room with them. They shot at all who entered the large lab room they currently occupied.

X-Ray used his vision to see into the room without opening the door. He saw who he thought was the Mad King, pacing the room as if on a patrol, speaking rapidly to his men. “Boy, does he look pissed,” he commented.

Vav groaned. “Oh, no. I don’t think even I would be able to get in long enough to disarm them. I can try, though. I did it last time—”

X-Ray cut him off before he could say anything more. “No!”

Vav looked at his partner, startled at the snappy response. “But we have to try and get in, X-Ray…”

The Puerto Rican shot a warning look at Vav. “Not again,” he replied in a firm voice. He wouldn’t risk Vav a second time over a stupid block of ice. “We’ll come up with something else.”

The Captain cut in, impatient. “Then what do you suggest? If Vav thinks that he can get in there and put an end to this, we have to let him try.”

“I have an idea. It’s a pretty terrible one, but…” X-Ray walked up to the door and yelled as loud as he could. “X-Ray and Vav request an audience with the Mad King!” He waited. Captain Whirrel rolled his eyes and was about to berate X-Ray when they got a response.

A sinister laugh echoed through the room, then a deep voice called back “Permission granted.”

X-Ray timidly opened the door, bracing for a spray of bullets that never came. Vav was next to his partner instantly. “That really _was_ stupid of you,” he hissed in the younger man’s ear.

X-Ray didn’t respond to the Brit. Instead, he looked straight into the face of the beast, the man whose face even he couldn’t remember. “All hail the Mad King,” he said in mock devotion.

 Another amused chuckle, and then the Mad King shot a smile at them that was both charming and fear-inspiring. “So, what did you want to talk about, boys?” He raised his right hand as if conducting an orchestra. All of his men raised their guns in unison, aiming at the duo like a firing squad. “And make it quick, hmm? You won’t be leaving this room alive.”

“Shit,” Vav swore under his breath. Should’ve seen that coming.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your perception) there was an interruption. Someone had slipped in unnoticed via a side door that hadn’t seemed to be in use. He was finally noticed when a slightly unhinged laugh echoed in the large room, followed by two gunshots. Two of the Mad King’s men slumped to the floor, wounded.

Everyone turned to the newcomer, a strange red-headed man dressed in a nerdy rain jacket and clip-on shades, a police-regulation gun in either hand. He pointed them both toward the beast and his remaining two followers. Both men seemed unsure of who to aim their guns at, and waited for further instruction, as they had been trained to do.

X-Ray and Vav recognized him immediately, and to their surprise, the Mad King seemed to know him as well. “Why am I not surprised that he’d show up now?” Vav whispered to X-Ray, who was in the middle of devising an escape plan.

“Dr. Beardo is back, bitches!” he laughed maniacally.

“Well, well. Dr. Pattillo, so good to see you again. But your name no longer seems to suit you; you can always try Dr. Four-Eyes instead,” the Mad King offered, clearly annoyed.

Ignoring the quip, Jack addressed the pair of young heroes. “Hey, look who it is! My old lab buddies! Tell you what, boys, let’s make a deal. I help you deal with _this_ son of a bitch…” He motioned to the Mad King. “And you let me leave with that cave specimen, no questions asked. I’m only offering this once.”

“It’s not a good idea to cross me, Jack. Old friend or no, I can’t let you have this, and I won’t let you cross me again,” the Mad King warned coldly.

Jack retorted with “You should have thought of that before you left me to rot in the asylum, you bastard!” and started firing.


	7. An Epic Confrontation, part 2

The Mad King has been in this line of business for a few years now. He could tell when someone was going to fire their gun, even before they get a chance to pull the trigger. He saw the tell-tale signs of a crazed shooter in Dr. Pattillo.

Quick as lightning, he’d grabbed his uninjured men and pulled them to the floor just as Pattillo started firing at their heads. The tables they had turned over earlier in their standoff against the police gave them enough cover to act as a safety barrier. All three were uninjured. “Listen,” he hissed to his remaining men. “Stay down and keep an eye on E-12 and E-20. I’ve signaled for backup, and they should be here soon. We need to stall.” With that, the Mad King was up again with his Glock 21 aimed for Pattillo’s heart, but there was no need.

In his fury, Jack had only focused his fire on the crime lord, leaving X-Ray and Vav a chance to launch a plan of their own. Vav used his slow motion ability to get to Jack and try to disarm him, which would take some time since Jack was considerable larger than he was. Meanwhile, X-Ray ran toward the Mad King while he was distracted with his men.

X-Ray thought for a brief minute that they would be able to get away with taking down two men on their most wanted list at the same time, but that would be far too easy, wouldn’t it?

As stated earlier, the Mad King had lightning-quick reflexes, and the second he saw the Puerto Rican charging at him he turned his weapon and fired. The bullet struck X-Ray square in his right shoulder, causing him to lurch backwards.

The moment the bullet impacted his shoulder, a burning pain flared through him, and he stumbled backwards onto the floor. Hitting the floor only made the pain worse, and it made him temporarily blind. He felt involuntary tears sting at his eyes, and all he could do was cry out.

Vav, who was grappling with Dr. Pattillo for control of the guns, heard his partner yell and turned to the sound. “X-Ray!” he cried out and ran to where X-Ray had fallen, forgetting the mad men around him. The Brit knelt over his friend protectively, shielding him from any other possible bullets. “What do I do?” he whimpered, looking over his shoulder to determine how much danger they were in.

The Mad King considered the young heroes dealt with and aimed at Jack, who he considered to be a greater threat. Jack did likewise, a dangerous smile on his face. That smile quickly faded as he tried to fire off both of his guns, and only heard a disappointing click. His eyes widened in horror as he realized that the guns hadn’t been fully loaded; he was out of bullets.

The Mad King immediately started firing at him then, but Jack had already ducked through the side door he came in the moment he realized that the guns were useless. He had thrown them at the crime lord’s head in an attempt at a distraction as he got away. There was the sound of another gun firing in the hallway that Jack had escaped in, then the Mad King’s backup came barreling in, which consisted of about eight more men. The beast smiled in approval at his team and started giving orders.

“E-1 and 2, get off of the ground and help 12 and 20 out of here. The rest of you, grab that and bring it to the base as quickly as you can.” He motioned toward the vessel holding the caveman specimen.

The block of ice that had formerly housed the man had long since melted, causing the science team to put the preserved man into a cold-storage shipping vessel. At the moment that very same shipping vessel rested on an abnormally large mover’s dolly.

As the men got to work making sure the vessel was firmly attached to the dolly, the beast stopped one of them. “I heard a gunshot in the hallway. Did you kill that man?” He truly hoped the answer was yes, otherwise Jack was going to be the largest thorn in his side.

The Edgar soldier hesitated before reporting “No, sir. We tried, but we only managed to graze his cheek as he passed us. Our group leader was more concerned with reaching you to take him out.” The group leader had been E-10; the Mad King would remember to have a word with him later.

“Carry on,” the beast urged, supervising his men carefully. His gaze searched the room, confirming that X-Ray and Vav had already exited. As soon as they had the dolly vessel fully secured, he directed them to the side door that Jack had escaped merely moments before. “Come on, to the base. Is the getaway vehicle in back?” he questioned as they rushed down the hall.

“Yes sir. I think the van we procured should be big enough, and just as inconspicuous.” E-10 reported.

The Mad King smiled. Finally, some good news. Just as he thought they were in the clear, however, he heard the door behind them creak open as if someone was trying to be quiet. He spun around, gun raised and ready to fire.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

During the standoff between Jack and the Mad King, Vav had seen an opportunity to get away. He carefully lifted X-Ray up by his good shoulder, not wanting to touch the wound in case of infection.

Even so, everything hurt X-Ray right now, especially having to move, so he groaned when Vav pulled him up for support. “I know, I know. Just hang on, boy, I’ll get you outta here,” he muttered against his partner’s ear in reassurance. Despite the struggle, they both managed to make it back into the hallway where Captain Whirrel and Detective Wells awaited them.

“Oh, **shit**!” the detective swore as he saw the state of X-Ray’s shoulder, which was oozing out blood at a considerably fast rate. He turned and ran down the hallway to see if an ambulance was available. If not, he would make sure to call one immediately.

“What the hell happened in there?” Whirrel demanded as Vav set his partner against the wall as gently as he could.

But Vav was in no condition to answer questions right now; his thoughts were all of X-Ray at the moment. “Is he getting an ambulance?” he asked with the threat of a sob breaking through his voice, pointing after Wells as he ran down the hall.

“Yes, we’re getting one now. This is important, Vav, tell me what happened.” Whirrel tried to reason.

All of Vav’s words started running together. The story came out too jumbled to make much sense to the Captain. “The damned bastard shot him! The Mad King got him in the shoulder, and then Dr. Pattillo tried to shoot him, and I dunno anything else because I had to get us the hell outta there…”

“Pattillo?! He’s in there too?” the Captain was dumbfounded. He knew that he couldn’t let either of these men get away. But he also couldn’t leave Vav here alone with X-Ray when he was in such a panicked state. As soon as he saw the paramedics rushing down the hallway with a stretcher, he addressed the Brit. “Listen, the paramedics are here. You go with them and X-Ray and keep an eye on him.” He waited until the paramedics had the young man strapped to the stretcher, and Vav followed as if he were having a nightmare.

Captain Whirrel slipped into the room as one of the paramedics turned and asked Vav if he needed medical attention too, but Vav declined. As the Captain surveyed the room, he saw that it was empty. He saw bullet holes in overturned tables, and a sizeable pool of blood where X-Ray had originally gone down, but no one else was in the room. He saw that there was an unsecured side door leading out into a hallway, and decided to investigate.

He tried to crack it open and slip through quietly, but the door had other ideas. It squeaked out an alarm, and as the Captain raised his eyes the last thing he ever saw was the barrel of the Mad King’s Glock 22 pistol aimed at his chest.

If the Mad King had been in a better mood, he would have simply shot one of the Captain’s legs out and let him live. He may have even made the ambulance call for him. But today had been filled with too many betrayals and disadvantages to himself. K’s mind games, Goeff’s knowledge, E-23’s betrayal… The crime lord knew that he had to do something ruthless to prove to everyone that he was still meant to be feared.

Without a second thought, the Mad King put three bullets into the Captain, two in the upper chest, one in the lower abdomen. He assumed that one of the shots had reached the man’s heart, because he went down immediately.

The Captain hit the ground, and shook one last time as a muscle spasm started to release his muscles of all tension. Then he was deathly still. All of the Mad King’s men had heard the door squeak open and watched as their boss ended his rival’s life. The crime lord didn’t need to give an order. He turned and nodded back toward the body, snapping his fingers as he did so. Two of his men obediently rushed back and retrieved the body, ready to bring it back to base with the specimen.

It was time to send everyone a grand message, courtesy of the beast within.

Once the Mad King and his team were safe in the darkness of their base, he turned to the men carrying Whirrel’s stiffening corpse and said “You know where to go.” The men obeyed swiftly, walking down the corridor even further and out of sight of the rest of the team. The beast watched as the rest of his men wheeled the specimen into one of their many storage spaces. He felt curious about the specimen himself, and wanted to inspect it further before K arrived.

There was a viewing window at the front of the containment vessel, so that the face of the specimen was clearly visible. The Mad King peaked in as one of his best men, E-2 commented “Sir, it looks like this thing is actually _ventilated_. Why would they ventilate a vessel holding a dead man?” An excellent question.

Strangely enough, the cheeks of the specimen were flushed pink as though the man lived on. On closer inspection, the Mad King also observed wild reddish-brown curls that bounced as though he was moving within. Finally, the beast saw movement in the eyelids, as if the eyes beneath them were rolling around during REM sleep. That settled it, this man was definitely still alive somehow.

“Get this man to our medical room,” the Mad King commanded.

E-2 looked at his boss with a puzzled expression on his face. “Of course, right away sir… But why?”

As the beast walked down the hallway toward the dismemberment room, he called back “Because that man is alive, E-2. Damned if I know how, but he’s alive.” He walked into the room that housed the body of Captain Whirrel, with E-1 close behind him.

Usually, the Mad King had a few of his trusted men work on dismembering rival members or enemies while he dealt with the business transactions. But he felt that he should take care of this task personally; after all, this long game of Cat and Mouse with Captain Peter Whirrel had lasted for a few years now. He felt that because of their history, he should be responsible for the dead captain’s body.

He dismissed all of his men, giving E-1 specific orders to not disturb him or even to enter the room unless it was completely necessary. Once he was alone, he turned his attention to Whirrel’s personal belongings. He didn’t have much on him. The crime lord searched him thoroughly and found his gun, his police badge, his wallet, and his cellphone.

The Mad King admired the custom SIG P226 gun that he carried, briefly considering whether or not he should replace his Glock 22 with it in memoriam of the Captain. As strange as it seemed, it was this twisted sense of loyalty that had gotten him up to his position as crime boss in the first place.

He moved on to his wallet next, finding the man’s driver’s license and a few credit cards in it; no cash. He was about to move on when he found that one of the compartments had been reserved for family photos. Pulling out the first two (there must have been about ten pictures stuffed in there) he saw a picture of Whirrel smiling in front of his house, one of his arms wrapped snugly around a woman’s waist. Presumably, this was his wife. The next was of two young kids trying to pull a stuffed animal away from each other.

The Mad King put aside the wallet abruptly. He didn’t feel comfortable dealing with families, he tried to avoid doing so when he could. The concept of family was not unknown to him, though he wished that it had been. The “loss” that Goeff had mentioned wasn’t entirely inaccurate, making the beast wonder how much Goeff really knew about his personal life. But back to the present task, there would be time to question the seer later.

The crime lord decided to save the phone for last inspection; he’d wasted enough time stalling. He undressed the body and laid it out onto an old autopsy table that he’d taken the time to install in his base for such dismemberments. Taking a bone saw in hand, the beast began to saw a neat cut into the Captain’s neck, cutting all the way through until the head was completely severed. He paused to look into the hollow eyes of his old foe, and for once the beast was silent. That was a very bad thing, because the beast took away emotion, the beast felt no remorse.

But the man did. Ryan stared into those blank blue eyes and felt a wave of regret wash over him, regret for the family that would never be whole again. He regretted each pull of the trigger that had taken this man’s life, no matter how much of a thorn in his side the man had been. But he hadn’t had a choice, he had to reestablish his dominance. It was the only option he felt was necessary to prove that his hold on this business wasn’t slipping; he needed that feeling of control.

“It’s been fun, Captain,” Ryan murmured, urging the beast to awaken again. He wanted to be done with this. The beast obeyed and swallowed Ryan’s guilt. The Mad King had returned. He placed two fingers over the dead man’s eyelids in order to keep them shut, then set the head aside. This would be the first delivery.

He made quick work of removing each limb from the torso, setting them aside for future deliveries. The police station would be receiving the Captain back for a few weeks, piece by piece. It was important to send a message to the station, especially to whoever received the position of the new captain. “Fuck the police.”

The next order of business was to begin removing and preserving any salvageable tissue that could be sold on the black market immediately. First he had to remove the bullet slugs that he had placed into the body in first place, which he did as carefully as he could.

The Mad King wasn’t a doctor, but he knew that the organs were pretty much useless at this point. Still, he would reach out and see if there were any “organ collectors” amongst his contacts that were looking for such preserved specimens. He was always surprised at the demand for organs, and not all were needed for transplants. In fact, he would see if any buyers just wanted the rest of the torso as a whole.

With that decided, everything was set up, preserved, and packaged. The Mad King called in E-1 and instructed him to quickly put out the word that they had some tissue and a whole torso up for sale. E-1 obeyed without hesitation, taking the packaged items and hurrying down one of the many corridors of the underground lair.

Next, the Mad King called in E-2 and handed him the packaged head of the Captain and a note. “Don’t get too close to the entrance or you’ll be noticed right away,” he instructed. “Keep your hood up and head down. Set down the package near enough where it will be noticed and brought into the station. Don’t come back to the base right away; walk through alleys and in and out of stores. Make sure that you’re not followed. Understood?”

The look E-2 was receiving from his superior was enough to make a grown man want to hide in a corner to cower. “Yes sir,” was his automatic reply as he tried to keep all traces of fear from his voice. This was his chance to prove himself to the crime lord.

The Mad King gave him a sinister smile. “Good.”

Alone again. He started cleaning up the tools and wiping down his work station. Meticulous as always, soon it looked as if there hadn’t been a body on that table only moments before. The Mad King fiddled with his medallion unconsciously, deciding what to work on next; there was so much to get done. Then he remembered the cellphone.

He started by checking to see if the phone had a passcode lock on it. Of course it did. He decided to pass it on to one of his more tech-savvy employees. In fact, he recalled that E-16 was especially skilled at breaking electronic codes. He would take the phone to his loyal follower at once.

The beast strode through the dark tunnels of his domain, almost resembling a Minotaur haunting its labyrinth. Goeff had been right that first night, this place was perfect to reflect on the pain of loss. The Mad King belonged here in the darkness, and Ryan knew that as long as he lived, he would never be able to shake this shadow; the light would never be his again.

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Across town, Korah walked toward the park for her break, not feeling quite hungry enough to eat just yet. As she walked along the street, a man stumbling along the opposite direction caught her eye. She recognized the man as the “drunken seer” that Gavin had identified just a few days earlier. “What was his name, Geoff?” she wondered as she watched him attempt to walk down the street without getting in the way of traffic. He was failing miserably at it, walking in a zigzag pattern. She gasped as she watched him lose his balance completely and fall on his face on the pavement.

She crossed the street in a few nimble bounds before she reached him, and then held her hand out to him. “Are you alright?” she asked as Geoff took her hand and pulled himself onto unsteady legs.

“Yeah, I’m used to taking the occasional spill.” Geoff tried to play it off. He didn’t let go of her hand right away. Korah noticed this but didn’t move away, not wanting to hurt the poor man’s feelings. If the stories she had heard about him were true, she reasoned that she could humor him a little, at least.

“You don’t have to hide behind those plain clothes and thick glasses, you know,” he said suddenly, and Korah couldn’t shake the feeling that his eyes were piercing through her, as if he could see everything she was thinking. “Your looks do not define you.  You’re much more than a beautiful face.”

She accidentally let a cold laugh escape her lips. “Yeah, tell that to every guy I’ve ever met.” It was almost like she’d lost control of her voice. She certainly hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

Geoff released her hand finally and continued. “A lot of people don’t take you seriously because of your looks. They think beauty and brains could never go together.” He paused, as if giving her a chance to turn and walk away from a drunken man’s ramblings. Korah stayed, rooted to the spot as if held by an outside force. She was surprised to find that she genuinely wanted to hear what he had to say. So Geoff continued. “They couldn’t be more wrong. But not everyone will judge you based on your looks or your sex.”

“I know,” she mumbled quietly, remembering every time she had been discriminated against because of her looks, because of her being a woman. She had experienced it with professors, colleagues, and a numerous amount of men in a position of power (not to mention the occasional jealous woman). They couldn’t care less if she was finding the cure to cancer or sliding down a pole, to them she meant little to nothing at all.

“So why did you do it? Why do you keep doing it?” Those questions caused her to rear back as if a physical blow had been struck against her. She knew there was no possible way that he could know her secret, but something in his gaze told her otherwise.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Korah replied and turned so that she could get away from him, suddenly anxious to keep herself from being revealed, but Geoff’s next words called her back to who she used to be.

“You’re too kind. You’re too kind to keep this up.” His voice was quiet, yet it filled the air around them. She looked at him with bewildered eyes, wondering on earth who this man could truly be.

“No. I’m not,” she felt herself speaking without her permission yet again, as if the words rolled out on their own, struggling to escape her mind out into the open. “I’m not a kind person. Not anymore.” She felt tears coming but absolutely refused to let them fall, rebelling against her senses.

Geoff smiled at her, a smile that caused a sudden burst of affection in her heart. Not necessarily in a romantic sense, but enough that she found herself trusting him despite telling herself not to, because how can anyone trust someone they just met so quickly and completely, and a known local drunk, at that! His next words were just as sickeningly endearing to her. “You are kind. You ran across the street just to help me stand up. No one else stopped but you. Stop fighting that side of you, Korah. It’s never too late.”

At that moment Korah knew she had to run, and so without another word (fearing what she might say next) she turned and jogged across the street, eager to get away from this man that had in the span of five minutes or less had caused her to feel for him. It wasn’t until she was in the nearby park that she realized with a start that he had called her Korah. She had never told him her name. She spent the rest of the day lost in thought, wondering if perhaps he really was a seer after all.

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X-Ray had finally lost consciousness as the ambulance screamed down the street toward the local hospital. Vav cried out in surprise, and the paramedic in the back tried to contain him, but there was little that he could say to make the Brit feel better.

“Listen to me, I’m trying to stop the bleeding right now. I need you to relax so I can do my job, sir,” the young paramedic said sharply.

It was hard for Vav to communicate at the moment from his sobs, he just kept stuttering. He tried to say something but the paramedic just couldn’t understand him. “What, sir?”

“I said, he’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” Vav sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve as he did.

“It’s hard to say right now, sir. I really need to stop the bleeding though. Once we’re at the hospital, the E.R. doctors will have to check and make sure that no arteries got cut by the shattered bone.” He knew that wasn’t what the Brit wanted to hear, but he had to be honest here.

“His bone is shattered? How do you know?!” Vav sounded like he was going to hyperventilate.

“Sir, please just try to focus on breathing, I need to focus on your friend. We’ll know if his shoulder bone is broken for sure once we get to the hospital. They can do an x-ray on it to be sure. But I’m almost positive that it’s shattered, the bullet hit right where the bone would be,” the paramedic was young and still inexperienced with consoling frantic friends. He hadn’t yet gained the skill to comfort, he was all about facts and blunt observation.

When Vav started trying to keep talking, the paramedic had to shush him again. “Sir, please, I need to stop the bleeding!” Vav forced himself to keep silent, staring at the ambulance floor through his tears, because looking at X-Ray hurt too much right now. With nothing else to occupy his thoughts, he irrationally blamed himself for his partner’s injury. He also wondered how they could possibly continue helping the police after this. The ambulance ride felt like an eternity, and as Vav turned these painful thoughts over and over in his mind, he discovered his very first hell on earth.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Jack had run as far from the building as his legs would carry him, and he now found himself on an empty street (an ambulance had pulled up to the museum, bringing all attention there). He was panting heavily and wondering how to keep sneaking around when he remembered the cellphone that Caiti had given him.

He pulled out the phone and started fiddling with it in some confusion, he hadn’t held a cellphone in a couple years, especially a smartphone. Jack finally figured out how to unlock the phone and check his contacts. Caiti’s name was the only one on the list, so he called it without hesitation.

He’d never been so relieved to hear her voice in his life. “What’s happened?” she asked in a panic when she heard Jack gasping for breath.

 “No, don’t worry… I’ll explain, just… I’m in front of a convenience store, the one next to the McDonald’s on fifth. Please come pick me up…” he panted, looking around to make sure no one was sneaking up on him.

“Okay, I’m on my way. Stay out of sight, and wait for me!” she instructed before hanging up.

Jack sat with his back to the wall, hidden by the shadows of the alleyway. He put his hand up to his left cheek, where the bullet had pierced him, and winced. It stung like hell, but he had to admit that he was one lucky son of a bitch to walk away from a fight with the Mad King with a mere scratch to the cheek. He’d seen Ray (or apparently it was X-Ray now) get shot in the shoulder and go down hard. He almost felt sorry for his former employee.

But there sure was a lot of blood, and he was sure that it would make Caiti freak out unless he cleaned up a little. He tried wiping his face with the inside of his shirt, pulling it up and exposing his belly as if he was doing the truffle shuffle. The blood still showed through to the outside of the shirt, but he hoped she might not notice. As he saw her car approach, he stepped out of the shadows toward her.

He hated making her worry. It was the Mad King’s fault. It was always his damn fault! “He got away this time, but the next time he sees me, it will be the last thing he ever sees,” Jack vowed in his heart. “The Mad King’s days are numbered.”


	8. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the late update! I had writer's block for the longest time, and this chapter would have taken even longer to put out if it hadn't been for darkrose705. She really helped me out with some ideas while I was stuck, so I owe her big time. Anyway, thanks for everything, and hope everyone enjoys the next chapter!

Vav woke up with a start, his ears still ringing with the sound of someone saying his name. He had fallen asleep in one of the corner chairs of the E.R. waiting room. He blinked hard, trying to adjust his blurry eyes to the sterile white environment. He looked up groggily at the person that had called him in the first place. “Mmm?”

“Your friend is out of surgery now. He’s being admitted to the hospital for further observation. It’s late, so you won’t be able to visit, but you can come back in the morning to see if he’s still awake.” The nurse waited for Vav to register the words in his mind and what they meant.

“I can’t see him now?” he asked weakly. He didn’t want to leave X-Ray here.

The nurse spoke in a soothing yet firm voice. “No, sir. He’s in critical condition, and needs his rest. It looks like you do too. Go home and get some sleep. We have night workers that can keep an eye on him if that’s what you’re worried about.” Then she paused, and Vav thought that he heard a hint of annoyance in her voice when she spoke again, though she was doing a great job of keeping it out of her face. “By the way, please fill out those admission forms before you leave.”

 “But I already did fill out some forms when we first got here,” Vav replied.

“Yes, but we need an actual name for your friend. ‘X-Ray’ isn’t a real name. We need his real name, not a nickname, sir.” The nurse wouldn’t hear otherwise, though Vav tried to protest about their “secret identities”.

“Oh, damn it all…” he muttered as he grabbed the papers again and wrote Ray’s full name on the top form. What was the use of hiding it now? He’d already had to call their boss and let him know about the hospital visit so they would be excused from work.

Vav started heading for the exit, but he did so unwillingly. He wanted nothing more than to see Ray; awake or asleep, it didn’t matter to him. Even so, he left with a heavy heart, opting to walk to the lonely apartment instead of taking the bus. The walk would help him relax, or so he thought.

As he walked along, he spotted a lone figure sitting along the curb. The distant man brought a bottle to his lips, and Vav knew somehow that Geoff Ramsey was just ahead. Or Goeff, however you said it. He remembered how unnerved Ray had been last time they crossed the man’s path, even though Vav hadn’t really understood why. “Dammit, I just can’t keep Ray out of my thoughts.”

He decided to walk over to Goeff then, for no real reason in particular. Goeff greeted him with a nod. “Hey,” the drunk’s eyes were glued to Vav’s suit.

Vav looked down and realized that Ray’s blood was all over the front of his suit. He must have looked like a lunatic, walking down the street in strange and bloodied clothes. “I-it’s not my blood,” he stuttered out.

Goeff simply nodded and set his drink down on the street and waited patiently for Vav’s next move. The Brit sat down next to him with some hesitation. “You’re some sort of psychic or somethin’ right?” Vav asked, his voice shaking slightly. He couldn’t help it; this situation had him completely lost.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Goeff replied and waited.

Vav took a deep breath and started his story. “My friend, he… He got hurt really bad today. He got shot in the shoulder. They said he would probably be okay, but they didn’t really tell me much else. So if you can see the future…” He paused, biting his lip in hesitation. “Can you tell me if he’s going to be okay? Really okay?” He looked at Goeff expectantly.

Goeff had remained quiet, listening with a sympathetic face. He remembered this young man from somewhere before. That’s right; he’d been an acquaintance of Griffon’s somehow, but Goeff couldn’t remember exactly what the circumstances had been. All he knew was that he’d been introduced to the Brit at a picnic and barbeque for the firehouse. This was definitely the same man. Goeff recognized him beyond the tearstained mask that he wore.

He chose his words carefully before speaking. “My visions are… complicated,” he explained. “It’s not something that I can turn on and off like a light. They kind of just come to me at random times. It’s a constant flood of images and voices, names that you used to know and are going to know and it never stops. It’s endless like the sky, and as constant as gravity. Suddenly one pops into my head, and I know it like I know the sky is blue, and then another one comes and the other is gone like an extinguished flame. They are whispers in a void, sunlight through fingertips.” He met the young man’s gaze again, but he just stared back blankly.

“I… Don’t understand,” the Brit admitted, still looking at him.

Goeff sighed. “I mean, I can’t control them. I can’t tell you anything specifically about your future or your friend’s, not unless you find me at the right time, when one of the visions is about you. I’m sorry,”

The young man exhaled a deep breath in disappointment, then stood up abruptly, his shoulders hunched over stiffly. “Well. I guess I should be going then,” he murmured and started to walk off.

Goeff’s heart ached for the man. As if fate decided to intervene in that moment, a message for the young Brit swirled around in his head and he called out a name he’d forgotten that he ever knew. “Gavin.”

The man turned around in surprise at the use of his name. Goeff stood too so that they were on the same viewing field. “You’re used to having someone around to make the big decisions, always running from your own responsibility. You won’t be able to keep it up for very much longer. Try to find your own path, instead of clinging to that of others.” The message didn’t have anything to do with his friend, unfortunately, but Goeff hoped that it helped him somehow anyway.

The Brit deflated at those words like a child shrinking away from their worst fear. He started walking away at a quick pace, refusing to look back. Goeff sat back down and took his lovely bottle of expensive wine in his hand again. He was savoring every drop since he’d received it from the Mad King, but this time he took a slightly larger swig. “Dammit, I just can’t keep Griffon out of my thoughts.”

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Jack winced as Caiti cleaned the wound on his cheek. It wasn’t too deep a scratch like he’d originally feared, so he wouldn’t need stitches. Not that he would go to a hospital even if he did need them.

Caiti hadn’t said a word to him since he got in her car. He didn’t attempt to break the silence, didn’t really know how to, honestly. The silence continued as they made their way to a table in the kitchen where she laid out the first aid kit and started fixing up the scratch. Other than muttering “This might sting,” she remained silent.

He sighed, knowing that she was obviously mad at him about the shoot-out. Caiti had always been so gentle, she never liked the idea of anyone being hurt. So the fact that he went in that building with guns blazing must have lowered her opinion of him. Jack had always expected that to happen, especially when he was hell-bent on revenge like this.

Still, he wished that there was some way that he could make it up to her. He had an idea, but it was a long shot. When she was done treating the cut, Jack broke the silence. “I know that you’re mad.”

Caiti rolled her eyes at that. “Wow, you really are smart!” she mocked him.

“I deserve that. I wasn’t trying to worry you, and I feel really bad. Soo…” Jack pulled out some money from his back pocket, part of the cash bundle he retrieved from his secret stash earlier that day. “Here, you shouldn’t have to pay for everything while I’m around. As long as I’m here, I want to help in any way I can.”

Caiti stared at the money, slightly disapproving. “That’s really not necessary. And it still doesn’t fix things. You were reckless, and you could have been killed. You won’t be so lucky next time.”

Jack sighed. He wasn’t giving up on his revenge, he wanted to see the Mad King suffer. But he didn’t want to keep worrying Caiti about it either. He had to keep her out of it somehow. “I know. I’m sorry about that. I won’t try anything like that again,” he lied. No use upsetting her about any of this.

His words had the intended effect on Caiti. She perked up considerably, she believed him completely. Jack suddenly found himself in a tight hug by the petite woman. “Thank you,” she said softly. “You should focus on moving forward in your life anyway. And I’m not taking your money. You are free to stay here as long as you need to, because I _want_ to help you.” She pulled away and set his money aside for him to take back.

Jack immediately felt bad for lying to Caiti, who at the moment was the only one that was even willing to help him, and at great risk to herself. But he couldn’t let it go, someone had to punish the Mad King, and took that role upon himself eagerly. It’s just that now he would be carrying out that revenge in secret, but he could do that. He’d kept secrets from her before.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The Mad King stood in front of the door leading to one of the medical observation rooms. Looking in through the glass window, he watched the impossible man toss around in a troubled sleep. The beast could only imagine what those ancient eyes may have seen. “Well, there you go. Your ‘artifact’ as promised, miss.” He turned his sapphire eyes to the old soul standing next to him.

She peeked in through the window as well, intrigued. “It’s alive! I mean, he,” K watched the man breathing in awe. “I never would have believed it.”

“He was in bad shape when we first brought him here, but my medics are some of the best in this region. They have him under heavy supervision just in case.” The Mad King took a step back from the window so K could get a better look at her purchase. Crossing his arms, the beast studied the seemingly fragile woman in front of him. There wasn’t anything unusual that jumped out at him right away. She seemed normal.

But something told him to guard against her, there was more here than it appeared on the surface. Or maybe it was already too late, it was difficult to tell. She turned to look at him, eyes sparkling in gratitude. “I never expected you to get him so quickly!”

“I told you it wouldn’t be a problem. Now, about my payment,” he pressed. It should have cost quite a sum, considering he had lost one of his men (albeit a traitor) and had two more injured, not to mention all the lost time they spent trapped in the building. The only saving grace was his new P226, courtesy of Captain Whirrel. But the Mad King decided to give her a bit of a discount anyway. He could never bring himself to charge a woman full price for his services; he considered himself too much a gentleman to do so.

K’s face dropped immediately. “Oh… right. I, um, still need to pay…” A thoughtful look crossed her face. “How much do I owe you, exactly?”

The Mad King handed her a slip of paper naming his price. She glanced at the number and breathed in sharply. “Jeez, that’s quite a price. I guess it could have been worse, though. Oh, well…” she sighed. “I’m kinda new to the black market, so I’m not too sure how expensive my request should cost,” she rambled, twirling a lock of hair around her finger by reflex.

“It’s a fair price, I promise.” The beast stepped a bit closer, reaching out to stroke her hair. It wasn’t his usual business practice to flirt with a customer, but there was an exception to every rule, and he wanted to get closer to K, at the very least to find out how she knew where his base was. The beast’s mind wandered back to his traitorous employee, wondering if he was behind the intelligence leak.

Nonetheless, he watched as a light blush crept into K’s cheeks. “If you say so, I guess,” she muttered, leaning into the touch slightly. Then, she turned back to the window as if nothing had ever happened. “Can I set up a payment plan? I don’t think I’ll ever have that much money at one time.”

The Mad King shrugged. “If that’s what you want, then I have no reason to object. As long as I receive some sort of payment on a regular basis, I will accept whatever you can afford. I do have a few conditions, though.” The air in the room grew heavy at his words, and K was quickly reminded that she was in the presence of a dangerous crime boss. It was imperative that she never forgot who she was dealing with, no matter how much control she thought she had at the moment.

“Okay, what are the conditions?”

“First, I want these payments to be on a weekly basis. Second, you have to be a little more discreet when contacting me. You can’t just waltz into my base of operations whenever you feel like it. You might be raising the suspicions of rival businesses, or even worse, the police. And third…” K could feel his gaze burning into her back. She didn’t dare turn around, afraid to see the malice that she knew must be visible in his eyes. “I want to know how you found me, how you found my base. In the past years that I’ve been here, not one person has found me unless I allowed them to.”

“…I can’t tell you that just yet.” As mysterious as she must have seemed during her first visit here, she couldn’t let that secret be uncovered. She was only allowed to live to this point because the Mad King found her somewhat interesting, but what if something were to change his mind?  “I have a feeling that the only reason I’m still alive is because you want to know about it. As such, I don’t think I should talk about it now,” she admitted.

The Mad King retorted “You won’t be alive for much longer if you don’t cooperate!” Then, recovering his calm exterior, he continued. “You are now considered one of my customers. I have a reputation to uphold, so as long as you do what I ask of you, it is in my best interest to keep you alive. I can’t allow the rest of my buyers thinking that I’m going to go on a rampage and kill them off. They will always be protected.” He paused for a beat as he noticed her relax in posture. She was letting down her guard, just as he wanted her to. Whatever game she was playing, he was sure to win this round. “Besides that, there’s more that interests me about you than just that little secret.”

K was turning to face him, about to respond, when she quickly turned back to the observation window in excitement. “Oh my god, he’s waking up!”

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The ancient being tossed around in discomfort. He didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten there, he only knew the constant throbbing in his head. He didn’t remember much, just shadows of people surrounding him, shouting in a language that he couldn’t quite understand yet.

People in bright white garments, like they were cloaked in the rays of the sun, poking and prodding him, turning to each other with surprise in their faces. One female in particular stood out to him, with an unnatural color of red in her hair and bright green eyes, a look of pride on her face as she gazed down at him. He thought she was beautiful. Then, he’d fallen asleep again, stirring for a brief moment, surrounded by many men dressed in black clothing. The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a different room, just as unfamiliar as the others. The sudden change from the dirt-floor huts that he was used sent his head spinning.

To will away the pounding in his head, he focused on what he knew. “I am Mogar, praised hunter of the Jiitsubin clan,” he chanted in a language far from English. “I am the protector of my village, provider of meats and pelts.”

He wondered if he would be able to take these strangers in a fight. They sealed him off in a strangely sterile room, devoid of anything but a bed and a door. Mogar didn’t recognize these materials, nor did he understand the patterns and clothing presented to him. Opening his eyes now, he looked to the glass window on the opposite side of the room. There was a woman standing there, her eyes obscured by a hat with netting coming down the front of it.

He wanted to call out and ask where he was. It was the first time that he felt that he had enough energy to speak. Moments later, that woman entered the room, followed behind by two men. One of the men approached him and offered him something. He guessed it must be food, although he had no idea what exactly it was. A bowl filled with colorless goop was placed before him. It wasn’t appealing to him, but his stomach growled viciously at him, begging for any type of sustenance, so he took the smooth bowl into his hands and lowered his face to it, slurping out some of its contents.

The man sat on the floor next to his bed and shook his head no. “No? What am I doing wrong?” Mogar tried to ask. The man motioned toward a utensil sticking out of the slop. It had been poking Mogar in the face while he was trying to eat. Now, he pulled out the utensil slowly, observing the circular curve in the other end. The man gently took the object from his hands and plunged it back into the food and then pulling up again, so that some of the food sat in the indent of the curved edge. He brought it to his lips as if he were eating from it, then offered it back to Mogar.

“Oh, I get it now,” Mogar thought to himself. He started to feel dumb, and a little embarrassed. Who _were_ these people? He brought the object to his mouth and bit down on it. The metal hurt his front teeth, but he managed to suck the strange food off of the object, clumsily pulling it out of his mouth. The food was pretty tasteless, nothing like the kind of food he was used to eating, but it would do for now.

The man then gestured to the object and started repeating a word over and over. Mogar guessed that the stranger wanted him to repeat it too. He attempted the word a few times before he said it correctly. “Spo- spoon.” Then he smiled, proud of himself. “Not bad, for my first time!” he thought.

The woman addressed him then, which was much different from his own culture. In his village, most women waited to be spoken to first before voicing their opinions. Still, he wasn’t in any position to say so right now. The woman pointed to herself, meaning she was telling him her name. A bold move, in his opinion. He found the idea strangely appealing.

“Ko… Ah, K,” she stuttered, turning slightly to glance at the second man standing in the doorway. Mogar guessed she almost revealed something that shouldn’t be spoken in front of that man. The man in the doorway stood tall and straight, his posture giving off an air of authority; he was the chief here. At the mention of her name, he had raised an eyebrow, but said nothing further of it.

Mogar contemplated on whether or not he should tell these people his name. It probably wasn’t a good idea, but… But she was staring at him so intently, expecting an answer. For some reason, he didn’t want to let her down. “Mogar,” he said, placing a hand on his chest.

K smiled brightly, then turned so she could face the man in back. The three strangers then started to converse rapidly in that language that Mogar couldn’t quite get his head around. He was ashamed that for the moment the most intelligent thought he could offer here was the word “spoon”, which seemed pretty inconsequential now.

After a while, K and the chief left the room. The chief had never bothered to introduce himself. That hurt Mogar’s pride a little bit, but he tried not to focus on that now. The man that was left introduced himself as “E-2”, and continued teaching words to the warrior. He paid close attention, knowing that he had much left to learn.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Gavin buried the side of his face into his pillow in an attempt to get comfortable. He had to get some sleep. He knew that he would have to be as awake and cheerful as possible for when he saw Ray the next day. But it was impossible, Gavin just wasn’t tired. He wondered if Ray would wake up in an unfamiliar room and not know what was going on.

He laid still for hours, until finally around four in the morning he managed to fall into an uneasy sleep. He forced himself awake about three hours later. He hopped out of bed and started getting dressed, anxious to get to the hospital as soon as visiting hours started. He thought about wearing his Vav uniform, but seeing as the one from last night was coated in Ray’s blood, and his other one was probably at the bottom of his laundry basket, he decided against it.

The bus ride to the hospital was a blur, and it wasn’t until he was standing in the Puerto Rican’s hospital room that he became aware of what he was doing. “Ray?” he said quietly, almost too low to hear.

Ray was awake, clothed in a hospital gown and propped up so he could stare out of the window near his bed blankly. He mumbled out a greeting so that Gavin knew he had heard the Brit, but didn’t turn to look at him. Gavin guessed it must still hurt to move around too much. Sitting in a chair next to the bed, he continued, “How did you sleep?”

“I didn’t.” The reply was blunt and cold. Ray was angry with him. No, it wasn’t that; he was angry with the situation, and just taking it out on his best friend. Gavin racked his brain for something else to say, but before he could speak, Ray was talking again. “You left me.” It sounded like an accusation.

“No, they wouldn’t let me see you. They said you were in bad shape, and needed to sleep. They sent me away.” Gavin tried to explain. Then, deciding that there were more important issues at hand, he asked “Did they contact your mum yet? She really should know what’s going on so that your family can come and visit you.”

Ray scoffed, and Gavin kept repeating to himself that Ray was not angry with him, but with the pain, and with the Mad King. “Of course not. How could they? They don’t even know who I am. I came in as X-Ray, remember?”

Gavin twiddled his thumbs. “Ahh, about that…”

Ray guessed immediately what had happened. “Seriously, Gavin? What’s the point of a secret identity?”

“Well, what was I supposed to do, Ray, they wanted your information for their records. It was legal stuff, and I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I just put everything down. Hopefully they called your parents, and if not, I will.” Gavin huffed. The lack of sleep was making him grumpy too.

“Fine, call my parents. I can’t stop you in this condition anyway,” Ray spit out the words like venom, then winced in pain. The wound was tightly bound, but it felt like a continual burn in his joints. He sighed. He knew he was being irrational, but he just couldn’t get his emotions under control right now.

Gavin stood up, a solemn look on his face. “Maybe I should go, I don’t wanna wind you up. You need to relax right now.”

That got Ray’s attention. The last thing he wanted was to be alone in this damn hospital room. “No, wait!” He sighed, preparing for a blow to his pride. “I’m not being reasonable right now, sorry. But I don’t want you to leave.”

Gavin seemed relieved, and immediately sat back down, waiting. He knew Ray must have had something important to say. “Did the doctors come in and talk to you yet?” he asked.

Ray nodded weakly. “I was really lucky. They said if I wasn’t in such good shape before the injury, the blood loss might have killed me. They got the bullet out, but it smashed right into the bone in my shoulder, and the joint got all messed up.” There was a long pause as Ray fought down the urge to cry. He was supposed to be a hero, dammit, not a baby. “They said my shoulder will always be messed up, and I’ll be lucky if I’m ever able to raise it even a little. There was a lot of bullshit about physical therapy. Said they’re gonna keep me in here for at least three weeks, and that’s the best case scenario. Gavin, it’s gonna take four to six months for the bone to heal completely.”

Gavin was fighting back tears himself. Seeing his best friend suffer like this broke his heart. “Damn that Mad King,” he thought bitterly. But he put on a cheerful face in spite of the sorrow. For Ray.

“Listen, I kind of have something else to tell you. I ah, had to tell our boss about the accident and everything. He knows our situation now, because I told him. At first he didn’t believe me but then he promised not to reveal what he knew to everyone else. So you basically don’t have to worry about coming to work until you’re all better. And Detective Wells was in the waiting room with me for a while, and he said he would make sure the force takes care of any costs our insurance won’t cover. I think the hospital will keep quiet about who you are too, because it doesn’t really benefit anyone here to expose you. At least, I don’t think so…” Gavin paused to take a breath, then said “Basically, more people kind of know our secret now, but I think that it’s okay.”

Ray sighed. He didn’t have the strength or will to argue with Gavin. He simply had to trust in his friend’s beliefs. “It’s okay. I overreacted earlier.” Ray admitted.

A sudden knock at the door startled them both. Detective Wells poked his head into the room. He had a solemn look on his face. “How ya’ feeling?” he asked with a weak smile.

“Fucking terrible.” Ray replied.

“Yeah, I suppose you would. Sorry, dumb question. Good to be honest about it, though. I respect that.” Wells walked into the room and just stood in the doorframe for a moment, ominously quiet. Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m just gonna get straight to the point, since there’s no pleasant way to say this. Vav… er, you are Vav, right?” he addressed Gavin curiously, eyeing his pedestrian clothing. Once Gavin nodded, he continued. “You remember I was telling you how the Captain went missing sometime yesterday evening?”

Gavin nodded. “Yeah, did somebody find him?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking, yes… Kind of.” Gavin and Ray stared at Wells in confusion. He cleared his throat and announced the news to them right away; in his mind it was better that way, like ripping off a Band-Aid. It was quick and painful, but better to get it over with right away. “One of our guys found a package with a note attached and the Captain’s head inside. The note simply said “A piece every week, my condolences to the family. The Mad King.”

Ray and Gavin stared at Wells in shock. Gavin felt his chest freeze up, making it difficult to breath. He couldn’t speak. Ray simply said “I can’t believe he got to him…” There was a heavy and uncomfortable silence pervading the air in the room.

Wells kept his eyes cast to the floor, continuing on. “We already called in his wife and broke the news to her, but we didn’t feel the need to show her the note. She asked to see the remains for herself, no matter how painful it might be. I admire her strength.” The last comment was more to himself than to Ray and Gavin, though both silently agreed. “More information about funeral arrangements will be coming soon, but right now I’m sure the family is busy grieving his loss.”

A nurse walked in from behind Wells and slid into the room. She smiled kindly when she saw Gavin sitting in the chair next to the bed. “Oh, you came back this morning!” Addressing Ray, she chirped “You are very lucky to have such a loyal friend! He almost slept in the waiting room all night until I sent him home.” Then, turning back to Gavin and Detective Wells, “I’m sorry, but it’s time for me to clean his wound and change the bandages. Would you mind leaving for a little while until I’m done?”

Wells cut in. “Actually, Vav, I was going to ask you to come down to the station with me. You’ve been specifically requested.”

Gavin looked over at Ray as he stood, waiting until Ray signaled that it would be okay. Ray gave a slight nod of his head in agreement, so Gavin answered “Sure, I’ll come with you. I’ll visit later, Ray.” Both men walked out of the room, leaving the nurse to do her job.

The drive to the police station was silent. Once they pulled into the parking lot, Gavin gasped and looked down at his pedestrian clothes. “Oh damn it all, that doesn’t matter now,” he thought as he got out of the car anyway. The Captain was dead, and there was more to worry about than his “secret identity”. As they entered the police station, Gavin was almost stopped when he tried to follow Detective Wells to the back of the building, but once Gavin started talking, they realized who he was and let him pass.

Detective Wells led Gavin into Captain Whirrel’s office. The Captain’s wife was already waiting in the room. Wells shut the door behind him so that the three of them could talk privately. Mrs. Whirrel was holding it together pretty well, despite her eyes being red from the tears she must have shed earlier. “Are you X-Ray or Vav?” she asked.

Gavin was surprised, but said “I’m Vav. X-Ray had to be admitted to the hospital last night, so he couldn’t make it. Otherwise he’d be here. Ehm, I’m so sorry for your loss.” He was stuttering a little, but he didn’t know what he should say to the widow.

She smiled at the attempt. “Thank you. Peter really trusted you boys. He was always praising your bravery. He said not so many young people were as trustworthy as the two of you. Yes, he was always praising your work,” She looked as if she was going to cry again at the thought of her late husband, but she kept going anyway.

 “This man, this Mad King that everyone keeps talking about… He’s terrible to be able to kill and dismember another human being, it’s just sick!” She was crying now, and though she kept talking anyway, Gavin held her hand gently, not knowing how else to comfort the woman.

“He’s the one that hurt your friend too, isn’t he? Something needs to be done about him before he can hurt anyone else! Already, my family is ruined! I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell my children that not only is daddy not coming back, they can’t even say goodbye properly because we haven’t got the rest of him back yet!” She stopped then to sob loudly. Gavin squeezed her hand, then looked to Wells for help.

The detective took action, setting a box of tissues on the desk and reaching out to hug the distraught woman, who accepted it willingly. Sometimes there was nothing else you could do but listen to the grieving soul, offering a kind shoulder if needed. “Sorry,” Mrs. Whirrel sniffed, embarrassed. “I’m still not used to the idea of him being gone, but I guess that will come in time. Vav, I called you hear to ask for your word. Please promise me that you will find that sadist and bring him to justice! I don’t want all of my husband’s sacrifices to have been in vain. Please,” She was begging, and what could Gavin do but agree?

“I, I promise…” he said, his shoulder sinking in dejection. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure if he could do anything about the Mad King, especially without Ray’s help. His thoughts kept going to the hospital room that Ray now occupied. If they hadn’t been so lucky, all three of them could have been killed. This could have been their heads in a package.

Gavin and Detective Wells sat together in the break room after Mrs. Whirrel finally went home to break the news to her children. They noticed that a lot of people were being gathered into the break room. “They’re probably going to announce who will take over Peter’s position,” Wells muttered to Gavin, who looked confused as to why a meeting was occurring in the break room.

Sure enough, someone stood before them all and started speaking in an authoritative voice. “As I’m sure you all know by now, our own Captain Peter Whirrel has passed away. Another murder victim of the Mad King. Pete was a good guy, and he had many friends here. He’s going to be missed on this force by a lot of people, not to mention his loving family. But we must have a Captain for the force, so a decision has been reached on who will be taking over the position.”

The man paused for dramatic effect. Gavin and Wells stared at him expectantly, as did everyone else in the room. “A former member of the Federal Bureau, Special Agent Alan Maverick, has been offered and accepted the position. He will be a great asset to our team, and hopefully with his help we will be able to find and take out the Mad King once and for all. In honor of Pete’s memory.”

Numerous discussions broke out across the room as the very man, Alan Maverick, came forward to be introduced and expressed what an honor it was to be chosen for the position, and his grief about the loss of the former Captain, etc. Gavin and Wells stared into their coffee cups.

Wells sighed. For a brief second, he wondered, hoped even, that he might be considered for the position. He realized now that it was a silly thought, but the desire was still there. But as was his custom, he let it roll off his back and his thoughts turned to other matters. He was never the type to dwell too long on disappointments. Better to keep moving forward.

His thoughts dissipated when he heard Gavin speaking. “I promised the Captain’s wife that I’d catch the Mad King. I must be bloody mental.” Wells looked up at the Brit. “I mean, he killed the Captain, and he injured X-Ray. Next time, we could really die. I dunno, I don’t think I wanna ever see that guy again. Not that I can remember enough about him to begin with…” Gavin trailed off.

He stood up. “I’m gonna go see X-Ray again,” he mumbled and left Wells sitting alone at the table.

Detective Wells didn’t like what he saw happening around him. A sinister sense of foreboding entered his heart. The Captain had been killed, the new Captain didn’t feel quite right to him, and one of their local heroes was badly injured while the other was getting cold feet. The police force was in chaos.

Wells had only worked with Captain Whirrel a few times, so he couldn’t call himself a close friend of the man, but he felt a sort of responsibility to him, as one of the people to last see the man alive. So he swore an oath to the dead man. “I promise, no matter how difficult things are going to be, we will find the Mad King and bring him to justice. If necessary, he will be killed.”


	9. Inner Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took this long for me to update! I just recently moved to a different state, so I've been taking some time to adjust, not to mention that school has started up again but I will try my best to update semi-regularly!

“Ray, maybe you will heal faster than you think. After all, we aren’t exactly normal anymore, are we? Remember after the accident, how we were out of the hospital after a few days, and the doctor couldn’t believe it? Maybe it will be like that,” Gavin tried to cheer up his friend, after having just told him everything that happened at the police station. Ray wasn’t taking the news of a new captain too well.

Ray merely mumbled out an unbelieving “Yeah…” He was really out of spirits. The Brit was starting to get worried. He’d never seen his friend look so down before. Considering the circumstances, it was understandable, but that didn’t make Gavin feel any better.

“Actually,” he thought, “Ray looks pretty pale right now…” Out loud, he asked “Are you feeling alright, Ray? If the pain is coming back I can go get a nurse for you.”

Ray just shook his head. “I’m fine,” he lied unconvincingly.

Gavin bit his lip. “Well… Okay. Hey, after your shoulder heals up again, what do you think about moving further upstate? With our experience in editing, we could probably get a few job offers up there. Or we could move closer to your family so they wouldn’t have to travel so far to visit you. I know your mum always complains about that,”

Gavin stopped talking when he noticed the disgusted look on Ray’s face. “Oh my god,” Ray said.

“What?” Gavin squawked defensively.

“You’re really gonna run away, aren’t you? After you promised that we’d capture the Mad King, you would let the Captain’s wife down.” Ray shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you.”

Gavin’s anger flared up at that. “Well, why the hell does it have to be us, huh? They have a whole bloody police force out looking for the guy, I don’t see why we have to be involved anymore after all this!”

Ray’s eyes flashed in the Brit’s direction in anger. “After all _what_ , Gavin?”

Gavin would have hesitated to answer, but Ray was irritating him too much for him to be sensitive. “After you got shot in the bloody shoulder! You could have died, you know, and I could have died too! That guy is dangerous, and we can’t just keep playing hero anymore!” he shouted.

“Well as you may have noticed, I didn’t die. Just admit it, you think I’m going to be useless now. Well, it doesn’t matter what you or the doctors all think, my shoulder will be good as new and I’ll be able to do everything that I could before! Just because I got a little hurt doesn’t mean I’m going to just give up on everything that we’ve worked for! We’re doing so much good here that I don’t want to quit, and I won’t.” Ray lashed out.

Gavin lowered his voice, knowing that yelling at the Puerto Rican wouldn’t do any good right now. “I never said you were useless, I’m just trying to look out for us. Besides I think you mean all the good _you’ve_ been doing, right? After all, I’m just a screw up that no one pays attention to. Last time, I was the one that saved everyone and I didn’t even get acknowledged for it.” He didn’t bother keeping the bitterness out of his tone.

Ray narrowed his eyes. “It’s not about the recognition, I just-”

Gavin stood up from his seat. “I’ve gotta get going, I have things to do.”

He started walking out of the room in a stiff motion. As he walked past the threshold of the door he heard Ray say “ _You_ move then, Gavin. I’m staying right where I am.” Gavin just huffed and kept walking.

Once he was standing outside of the hospital, he crossed his arms and looked around at nothing in particular. “Well, what do I do now?” he thought to himself, having just lied to his best friend about being busy. Honestly, without Ray what did he have? He thought about working on the editing project he hadn’t been able to finish the other day, since he was a bit behind on it. The boss even allowed him to bring a copy home to work on, since he would be busy taking care of Ray and all and not coming into work as often.

Having absolutely nothing else to do, he did go home and continued the editing. However, his mind kept wandering and he wasn’t able to focus too much on what he was doing. About a half an hour in, he was sitting back, staring blankly at the screen. “I can’t do this right now,” he sighed in frustration.

Then out of nowhere he felt his phone vibrate. Curiously, he pulled his phone out and checked the number. It wasn’t a number that he recognized. But he had nothing better to do, so he accepted the call and answered. “Hello?”

“Hey. Is this Gavin?” a female voice asked on the other end of the line.

“Um, yes.” He answered, somewhat confused.

“Oh hey! It’s Korah, from the library. Are you still up for that tour?” Korah asked.

Gavin felt a huge grin spread across his face. “Yeah, of course. I don’t have anything to do at the moment, so might as well. Where do you want to meet up?” He started saving and exiting out of the editing program. It wasn’t getting anywhere, anyway.

“I had the day off, so I’m home right now. I’m in an apartment on Seventh Street, if you wanna meet up with me here. Or I could go to you, whatever works.”

“No it’s fine, I can come to you. See you in a bit.” Gavin hung up the phone and ran to the bathroom for a quick inspection. “Hair’s alright, a bit of a scruffy look, but girls love that,” he thought to himself.

Then it occurred to him, with some embarrassment, that he didn’t have a car to drive her around. Even if he or Ray had owned a car, he didn’t have the license to drive one. “Dammit, I’m gonna look like a loser, taking her everywhere on the bus…” He stared hopelessly at his reflection. “…I’ll just tell her the car is in the shop,”

With that decided, Gavin dashed out of the apartment and started heading for the apartments on Seventh. It wasn’t too far away from his own apartment, and besides that walking would be much quicker than waiting half an hour for a bus ride. As he neared his destination, he saw a figure standing outside of the building, waiting. Gavin smiled when he got closer to her. “Hey, hope you weren’t waiting for too long.”

Korah smiled at him. “No, not really. Besides, it’s such a nice day out, I want to be out as long as I can.”

Gavin nodded, then stuttered “Ehm, the car is in for repairs right now. My car, I mean, so I hope you don’t mind the bus or anything…” To the Brit’s surprise, she didn’t seem disappointed.

“That’s fine. Actually, why don’t we just walk around for a bit? I kinda lied about needing a tour. Just wanted to get out of my apartment,” she admitted with a sideways glance at Gavin. “Do you mind walking with me?”

He felt a wave of relief wash over him; he didn’t want her to think he was some sort of loser. “Yeah, I don’t mind. I need to be out of the house right now, too.” With that, the two of them started walking down the sidewalk, no clear destination in mind.

At first it was silent as they walked. It became clear after a few minutes that Korah was distracted by something. Gavin hesitated, not wanting to pry too much, but eventually curiosity got the better of him. “Um, is something wrong?” Gavin asked tentatively.

Korah sighed. “Yeah, kinda. I just, um…” she trailed off, not speaking for a minute. Perhaps she was trying to find the right words. “I may have gotten myself into something I can’t handle.”

Gavin’s expression turned to one of shock. “What do you mean? What happened?”

Korah hesitated for a minute. “Well, I bought something really expensive. Actually, it cost way more than I can even afford. I owe someone a ton of money.”

Gavin didn’t know what to say. “Yeah, it really sucks, being in debt.” It was the wrong thing to say, and he felt bad for saying it immediately. “Er, maybe I can help you with it then?”

Korah managed to laugh at that. “Somehow I don’t think it would be right to take money from someone I just met. Thanks for the offer, though. Oh,” she looked up as if just remembering something. “How’s your friend doing, the one I met? Ray, wasn’t it? I kinda expected him to be here too.”

Gavin tensed up reflexively. He didn’t want to think about Ray after their fight, but he couldn’t just avoid her question either. “He was involved in an ‘incident’ recently; he got hurt really bad, and he’s in the hospital right now.” He hoped she wouldn’t ask too many questions about what happened, since all he could do was tell half-truths about it.

Korah seemed to understand that he couldn’t say much, although she looked surprised. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I probably shouldn’t have called you away. And here I am, complaining about my problems, I’m sorry!”

“No it’s fine, you didn’t call me away. I was gonna visit later today, so you’re fine.” Gavin lied; there was no reason to let her know about the fight. “And anyway, I was the one that asked how you were, so you weren’t being inconsiderate.”

“Well, I hope he’ll feel better soon, then,” Korah commented. Gavin relaxed; she wasn’t going to ask about it. Then, changing the subject “Hey, do you want to go get something to eat? I kind of skipped lunch,” she admitted with a laugh.

Gavin smiled. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go, then!” and

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Mogar sat in his cell, looking over the flashcards that E-2 had given him to help him learn. He was learning and retaining information at a rapid rate, according to his mentor. By now, he could hold a simple conversation in English, but nothing too detailed just yet.

E-2 walked into the room now, for another English review. Mogar noticed the same man from the first day walk in behind his mentor and lean against the wall in observation. He now knew the blonde man to be some sort of king. Either way, the warrior was now used to seeing him. Sometimes the king would sit in on their lessons and watch. But never did he directly address Mogar in conversation.

That changed today. Halfway through the lesson, the king walked toward the pair and looking at E-2, said “Leave for a moment. He seems to be understanding you well enough.”

E-2 started to protest. “Sir, I don’t think now is the time to—” The king shot him a warning glare that made him stop talking and promptly obey. Now Mogar was alone in the room with him.

To be honest, Mogar really didn’t care for this king. His presence felt wrong. Regardless, the king sat down in the seat opposite of Mogar, where E-2 was previously. “Hello. Do you know who I am?” He waited for an answer.

Mogar hesitated before speaking. “King…” Mogar suppressed a shiver as a dark smile lifted the corners around the king’s mouth. “Don’t show fear,” he thought to himself.

“Yes. King. I am the Mad King. You may address me as such.” A pause, as if he expected Mogar to repeat after him. Mogar remained silent. He really didn’t care for this man. The Mad King continued. “Do you remember the woman you met when you first woke here?”

It took a moment for Mogar to work out the exact meaning of the Mad King’s words, still slow in comprehending English. Then he nodded, preferring not to speak when possible.

“I thought it best to tell you now, so you aren’t surprised later. She is now your owner.”

Mogar stiffened at those words as a painful blow is struck to his pride. To be owned by anyone is terrible enough, but of all things, being owned by a _woman_ …

 The Mad King smirked when he noticed the warrior tense up. It was exactly the reaction he had predicted. He continued on. “You might want to get used to the idea, and soon. You will be taken to her place of residence once she completes her payment to me, and beyond that I cannot say what will happen to you.” He waited for Mogar to say something, to protest but the warrior was stubbornly silent. Frowning, he prodded for a response. “Unless that’s not what you want.”

Mogar couldn’t help but look up at those words, thinking that maybe there was a way out of this humiliation after all. The beast’s smile returned; he had his prey exactly where he wanted. “Unless you’d rather work for me.” Still silence, but Mogar looked interested at least. “I can help you, you just have to say the words.” Then the beast sat back, equally silent.

Mogar had no desire to work for the Mad King, but he was more repulsed by the idea of being led around by some woman he didn’t even know. Maybe he wouldn’t have minded if it had been the red-head, but something felt wrong about K. “Right now, the best plan of action is to pretend I’m on the Mad King’s side, then break out on my own later,” he thought. Out loud, he struggled with his English. “I… I don’t…”

The monster before him nodded. “Close enough,” the beast thought, already calculating in his head how best to use Mogar amongst his employees, most likely placing him in the combat units led by E-6. “I will tell you what you need to do, once K has made a full payment. All the necessary tools will be available to you then.”

Mogar thought he knew what that meant, but just to be safe, he asked in a shaky accent “Tools for what?”

The Mad King emitted a deep, chilling laugh as he stood from the chair and turned to leave the room, nodding at E-2 through the observation window to reenter. Before he left Mogar to his studies, the answer came in a low tone. “Tools to kill, warrior.”

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Detective Wells sighed as he walked into the police station from outside, massaging his temples as he went. He had such a headache. But leading a dead-end investigation would do that to anybody. In the end, the library investigation led nowhere, and amidst the station being in an uproar about Captain Whirrel’s death, the new Captain was already berating Wells about the lack of progress.

He looked up when he heard what sounded like the beginning of a heated argument at the front desk. The head scientist of the most recent expedition, Lindsay Tuggey, was starting to raise her voice and the woman behind the desk was looking extremely annoyed as well. Lucky for Lindsay that Wells had been an avid follower of her most recent works and considered it an honor to help her if he could. Striding towards the bickering women at a fast pace, he called “Something I can help you with, miss?”

Lindsay turned around, her green eyes flashing in anger at him. “I want to speak with whoever is in charge of my case! Last night, a very important artifact was stolen, and I need to know **right now** what’s being done to get him, I mean it, back!” With a venomous look at the desk clerk, “I don’t _care_ how busy you are right now.”

Wells smiled at her calmly. “Then I think that I’m just the person you need to talk to. I was there last night, I saw a lot of what happened. Please, come this way…” He took her hand and led her to the break room in the back.

As he pulled out her chair for her to sit, she said “Thank you, but don’t think that being nice to me will make me forget why I’m here.”

Wells nodded, sitting in the chair across from her. “Of course not, I would never insult you,” he insisted with a smile. Then, turning more serious, he remarked “I’m not sure if you were aware, but during that heist by the Mad King, we lost someone important on the force.” He paused to study her closely, trying to sense her spirit. Could she be trusted? Wells thought that she seemed reliable enough, so he leaned forward over the table and continued. “Our Captain was killed in cold blood by the Mad King. I’m sure he’s out there sneezing somewhere.”

Lindsay, who had looked a mixture of shock and sympathy, suddenly said “I’m sorry, but I have to ask… Why sneezing?”

Wells blinked, confused. “In some parts of Eastern Asia, there is an old belief that you sneeze unexpectedly when someone is talking about you. Sorry, I forgot that not everyone has a background in world mythology like I do.”

“Oh,” Lindsay said, becoming sympathetic again. “Well, I’m sorry for your loss, I didn’t know that anyone was killed.”

Wells nodded. “We haven’t released the news to the press yet, we’re trying to keep it under wraps for his family’s privacy until they are ready to speak publicly about it,” he explained. “Now maybe you can explain to me why this artifact is suddenly so important to everyone that so many people have gotten involved.”

Lindsay hesitated, then asked “How much have you read about it in the papers?”

“A lot of speculation that I’m not willing to believe unless I have proof to back it up. You can’t always trust what you read in those articles.” Wells shrugged. “Enlighten me.”

The red-head started biting her lip, before saying “You entrusted me with a secret, so I’m going to do the same for you. The “artifact”, that is, the man that we brought in… We didn’t know it at first, but he’s absolutely impossible.”

“Yeah, I read the articles, something about his skin being perfectly preserved and un-aged, not a spot of decomposition on him. I just figured that was the media hype.”

Lindsay shook her head. “It was more than that, although that was true as well. He was perfectly preserved for a reason; _he was still alive!_ ”

For a minute, Wells had the funny feeling that he was being tricked, but a close look into her face told him that at the very least, she truly believed what she was saying. And Detective Henry Wells had never been the type of man to dismiss someone else’s theory without hearing it out first. “How could you tell?” he asked.

Lindsay seemed relieved that she was willing to believe him. “At first, none of us knew. It wasn’t until one of our interns accidentally let the ice block around him melt (because he was supposed to be kept in one of our special rooms that can go below freezing temperature and she forgot to keep monitoring the room and adjusting the thermostat, but I digress) that we realized that he was still breathing. His breathing was shallow, and his vitals were even worse. Of course, what would you expect from a man stuck in a block of ice for hundreds of thousands of years? We were keeping him in a specially designed chamber just to keep him alive, and then the Mad King shows up and whisks him away somewhere! If not by my duty as a scientist, I have a moral obligation to get that man back. He’s in more danger than he can understand, and what’s more, he’s my responsibility.”

Wells folded his hands under his chin thoughtfully. “I hate to bring this up now, because I want to believe you, Dr. Tuggey, but isn’t it possible that this was a gigantic prank? The man in the ice block?”

Lindsay crossed her arms. “We tested ice chips directly from that block, and it contained certain microorganisms and traces of chemicals that date it to back before what we would call a civilized age. There was no faking it. And even so, why do all this for a prank, only to end up almost killed? It makes no sense.” She paused to consider something. “Although… It was so strange…”

“What was strange, Dr. Tuggey?” the detective urged. “It’s important that I know everything that you know about this.”

Lindsay refused to say anything further. Shaking her head, “No, I can’t say any more than that. You just have to trust me, it’s not relevant to the case.”

“If that is so, then I bow to your superior knowledge of scientific research. Then that leaves me with no other choice but to find the Mad King and return your subject to you safely. Besides, I have my own reasons for finding him.” Wells said, leaning back as his gaze seemed to go past Lindsay, beyond the walls of reality and into the inner workings of his own mind. He was plotting.

“Thank you, I just wanted to be sure that something was being done about this. It’s not even about the research anymore, we just need to make sure he’s safe…” The scientist stood. “That was all I wanted, I guess I should leave you to it then. And if you don’t mind, Officer…”

“Henry Wells, miss.”

“Officer Wells, if you wouldn’t mind keeping me updated on if you find him, or don’t find him, or anything at all, I hope that you will.” Lindsay waited for an answer.

Wells sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t officially tell you anything about a classified case such as this. However, I see no problem in meeting up with you sometime when I’m not on duty.” He had always been a little unorthodox on interpreting the rules. He wondered if she would realize what he was saying.

“So, off the record then?” Lindsay asked quietly, catching on.

Wells nodded. “It would be an honor, Dr. Tuggey.” Lindsay smiled brightly and nodded. Wells stood and escorted her to the main lobby, watching until she was well out of sight of the front glass doors.

The detective felt a distinct tap on his shoulder, and turning his head he found none other than Captain Alan Maverick standing behind him, a strict frown upon his face. “Come with me,” he said, turned and started walking without looking back to see if Wells was following.

The detective reluctantly obeyed, following after the new captain. Once they were in the privacy of Maverick’s office, the former FBI agent turned to face Wells and said “So would you kindly explain to me why we have a criminal that’s been sitting in our holding cells far past the allotted time and he hasn’t been formally arrested yet?”

There was only one suspect that fit that description. “You mean Kyle Stark. He’s kind of a special case, sir. You see, he may not have been fully aware of his actions at the time of the…” Wells was cut off.

“Did he do it?” Maverick asked simply. Wells blinked but didn’t answer, causing the captain to grind his teeth in irritation. Again, “Did he commit the crime, detective?” A sarcastic note on “detective”, full of disrespect.

Wells closed his eyes. He couldn’t win. “Yes, sir. Yes he did, but like I was saying…”

“Let me tell you something. I don’t care to hear your opinion on a case, and I don’t want to hear your speculation. I want you to do your job.” Maverick’s gaze was full of malice, not malice specifically placed on Wells personally, but perhaps on someone back in his own past, a place where he lost his faith in mankind. Wells guessed that Maverick had lost someone important, to hold so much hatred for the world (but that’s for another story).

“There are rules that we all must abide by, rules that we are sworn to uphold. For example, you can’t hold a person in holding cells for over two days unless you charge them with a crime. Here’s another one, you don’t make excuses for the suspect; they can do that all on their own. So right now, I am ordering you to go down to the holding cells and charge Mr. Stark for attempted robbery, kidnap, and assault with a deadly weapon. You can let his lawyer take care of his defense.” Maverick was finished speaking, and so sat down at his desk and started doing paperwork as if Wells was no longer standing there.

Wells knew that he had no choice, he had been directly ordered to make an arrest. Unfortunately, Maverick was right, his personal opinion held no weight in the law. He quietly left the office and started walking downstairs where the holding cells were located and disappeared behind the double doors at the end of the steps.


	10. Cowardice, part 1

Ray struggled against the pain in his right shoulder, still about as sharp as it had been the day the bullet had torn through his flesh. It had been nearly four days now since he’d been hospitalized, and he felt restless from the lack of movement. He hated being so dormant for this long, it made his thoughts drift in directions that he didn’t want them to go. He kept seeing his mom’s face, twisting with worry as he imagined it must have when she heard the news. His family was probably preparing to fly down and see him now, no doubt they were rallying for time off of work just for him.

It was a gesture that should have brought some comfort to him, but it actually did just the opposite. He felt strangely ashamed, like he’d let his family down, like he’d let _everyone_ down. Forcing himself to sit up all the way, he slowly turned so that his feet gradually drifted over the edge of the hospital bed.

He couldn’t accept it; couldn’t accept that he had to lie back and “relax” while everyone took care of things for him. He carefully reached out for the IV stand with his left hand (his right arm was still rendered useless; as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he really needed to go to physical therapy after all this) and started to move it to the hallway. “Have to be careful, can’t let Doctor Hartnell catch me again,” he thought to himself as he stole away down the corridor.

Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal, why did they make such a fuss over him going to the bathroom? He couldn’t stand being confined to that room any longer, so he opted for the longer trek down the hallway to the public bathroom instead of using the one in his room. He couldn’t stand this situation, with all the pitiable looks he was receiving from the people that came to visit him.

Like Gavin, for example. Ray felt a tightness in his chest at the thought of his best friend, but ignored it, brushing it off as over emotional sentiment. God, he just couldn’t _stand_ the way Gavin was acting around him lately, as if he was made of glass! And in fact, Gavin hadn’t been in to visit since their fight. Which meant that Ray had to endure every single pity visit from the police station alone, with not even his best friend there to help him through.

He was starting to feel lightheaded, the tightness of his chest unrelenting, but still he kept moving. He had almost reached the bathroom at this point, what was the point of turning back? Irritated, he wondered how much longer he would have to endure this hospital stay. It was really starting to embitter him.

He had finally reached the end of the hallway, and was just right outside of the men’s room when he spun around in what felt like one, uniform, weightless motion. “…Was it always so dark in this hallway?” he muttered to himself, suddenly gripped with feverish delusion. He heard nearby nurses (who had turned a blind eye to him so he could reach the bathroom with some dignity) gasp, mixing in with the noise of one of them stomping down another hallway, calling for Doctor Hartnell. The pain in his shoulder was suddenly unbearable, and after swaying unsteadily for a few seconds, he watched as the floor came closer and closer to him…

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Gavin sighed as he stood right outside of the threshold of the hospital. It had been a few days since he last visited. But only because he had been really busy! It had nothing to do at all with the… the “disagreement” that they’d had, no, it couldn’t be. It wasn’t that he was afraid to face his best friend again after that silent accusation hung in the air between them; coward. “ _Am_ I a coward?” the Brit had to wonder as he hesitantly took a step inside.

He had tried anything to keep himself distracted. He spent all day walking around downtown with Korah the day of their fight, just talking about where they had both come from, things that they liked to do, etcetera. Gavin smiled at the memory; it had _almost_ felt like a date.

But that aside, he’d tried to busy himself with projects at work; he’d even gone out for drinks with a few coworkers the other night. As accommodating as they had been with trying to include him in their conversation, he couldn’t shake the guilt at the back of his mind, guilty that he was here having fun while Ray was stuck in a hospital.

The other night was actually the reason that he’d finally decided to visit again; he wanted to check on Ray, to apologize, to do anything that he thought would help his best friend feel a little better. It wasn’t until he reached the floor that Ray was (supposed to be) on that he really regretted the time he had spent away. As Gavin strolled toward the Puerto Rican’s room, the nurse that had been assigned to Ray’s room spotted him and stopped him from going any further.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t have any visitors for Mr. Narvaez at the moment,” she said apologetically.

Gavin felt his face drop in worry. “Why, has something happened?” he asked, all the while blaming himself for everything. He remembered thinking that Ray had looked a little pale last time… Why the bloody hell had he stayed away for so long?

“I really can’t disclose that unless you’re a family member, sir. I’m sorry,” And it sounded like she actually meant it.

Gavin felt a flash of defiance run through him as he asked “That’s ridiculous. I’m his best friend, he’d want me to know what was going on! I want to see his doctor, now!” He was determined to not leave the hospital without finding out what was going on.

It looked like the nurse was ready to reprimand him, when a man’s voice called out “Susan, I can take it from here.” Gavin and the nurse both looked down the corridor to his left, watching the doctor approach. He was an older gentleman, with a stern look but kind manner surrounding him (and judging from the accent, an Englishman). “Young man, I’m sorry, we really can’t release any information without the immediate family present. It’s standard procedure.”

Gavin shrank back in uncertainty at first, but decided to keep trying. “Sir, he’s my best friend. Really, he’s more like a brother to me than a friend.” He didn’t know what else to say, he just wanted to know what was happening.

The doctor’s stern look didn’t leave his face, but it seemed to soften minutely. “Very well, my boy. Come then, we’ll talk over here,” and as he motioned for Gavin to follow him, he walked to an isolated corner for a private talk. Once Gavin found the will to follow behind him, the doctor spoke. “Earlier today, your friend disobeyed my orders and got up from his bed when he should have been resting. He was moving around too much when he hasn’t yet fully covered from the blood loss, which was quite severe. Not to mention the fact that he ripped his stitches wide open when he fell. It may have caused an infection-”

Gavin cut the doctor off then, frantic. “Is he going to die?” There, he’d said it, the one thing he’d been afraid to hear this entire time.

The doctor considered the young man in front of him. A small smile flickered across the older man’s features, just briefly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. I’m giving him my very best care. It’s the least I can do for our local heroes.” So he knew who they were; although that hardly seemed to be a priority now, it still put Gavin on high alert. The doctor continued. “Your friend can bounce back, even from this setback, but he needs to be patient and let himself heal. It’s the only way that he’s going to make it. And I think that he’s going to need your help in doing it.”

Gavin’s shoulders slumped. “Great, if Ray has to depend on me, he’s already doomed,” he thought to himself. Aloud, his voice trembled as he spoke. “What a friend I’ve been too, not visiting when he needed me to. I don’t know what I can do to help.”

“Is your name Gavin, by any chance?” the doctor asked, raising one eyebrow slightly.

Gavin’s eyes widened. “How…”

“Because Ray talks about you all the time, when I drop in to check on his progress. He has a tremendous amount of faith in you. Perhaps you hadn’t realized it before,” he paused, looking at Gavin. The younger Brit didn’t know how to respond.

“But… but I ran away. I was so scared, about losing my best friend, about our line of work. I haven’t been any help at all, so how could he possibly believe in me?” Gavin fought to keep his voice even, he didn’t want to be this vulnerable in front of the older gent.

“Ahh, running away, eh? I remember I used to do quite a bit of running myself, back when I was younger. Feels like nothing will hurt as long as you never stop, doesn’t it? But I’ll tell you something,” the doctor leaned closer in confidence, a hint of a mischievous twinkle in his wizened eye. “Being brave has nothing to do with not being afraid. Pushing past that fear, that’s what real bravery is.”

Leaning away again and consulting a chart in his hand, the doctor continued “In any case, Ray isn’t in any type of shape for visitors. I tried to warn him, but he didn’t listen,” A chuckle, and then “Nevertheless, I encourage you to drop by once he’s gained a little of his strength back. And I’ll tell him that you dropped by when I talk to him again.”

Susan tentatively walked up toward the duo. “Doctor Hartnell? A patient is requesting you, as soon as you have a minute.” Doctor Hartnell nodded in her direction, and with a firm pat on Gavin’s shoulder, he departed.

Gavin didn’t know how to feel; the only constant was the swirling guilt that he couldn’t seem to overcome. With an exasperated huff, Gavin turned and walked toward the elevator. No use hanging around here if he couldn’t see Ray. He thought it would be best to find something else to do while he sorted through his guilt.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

“WELLS!” A loud voice boomed down the hallway. Detective Wells looked up from his paperwork to see an agitated Captain Maverick glaring at him from afar. The captain crooked a finger in his direction, beckoning him to follow. With a resigned sigh, Wells stood from his desk and obeyed. He had a pretty good idea what this was all about, too…

Once they were standing in Captain Maverick’s office, Maverick unleashed hell upon his inferior. “What the _hell_ did you think you were doing, telling your only suspect- no, rather _criminal_ \- that he could get out of prison by pleading temporary insanity?” The venom in his voice was apparent. Wells opened his mouth to explain, but was immediately drowned out by his superior. “Why are you even still working that damn case? It’s a simple open-and-shut case, Wells. Kyle Stark broke the law. You caught him in the act of doing so. You brought him to the station, you arrested him, now turn in the damn paperwork and let’s be done with it. There are plenty of cases around here that can use an intellect like yours, so stop wasting it on nonsense.” Wells found it amazing how Maverick was able to make a compliment sound like an insult.

He waited a beat to make sure that Maverick was done exploding before he spoke. “The only reason that I’m still considering this case open is due to the strange psychological circumstances involved,” Maverick rolled his eyes, not bothering to try to hide the action. “I’m fully convinced that Stark wasn’t in full control of himself when the crimes were perpetrated, the only question is, who was the perpetrator?”

Maverick let out a tired sigh. “Listen, Henry.” His voice was volumes lower than previously. Strange how his lowered voice was more intimidating than his yell. “You are not his fucking lawyer. You are a paid detective of this police force. Please just fill out the report and finish your job so we can all move on to better things.”

It wouldn’t be accurate to say that Henry Wells wasn’t afraid of what might happen if he openly disobeyed his superior. But he knew that it would be worse to send an innocent to jail; how could he ever forgive himself if he allowed that to happen? So, steeling his nerves, he looked up straight into Alan Maverick’s eye and took a stand. “No sir. I will follow through with the investigation to the best of my ability. If you want to assign me to more cases as needed, so be it. I will continue on this case as well.” He was playing his own luck now, and he knew it. But Wells had always had an unbelievable force of luck behind him, and he tested it even now. “Let’s see if he fires me,” he thought to himself.

Maverick’s eyes flashed dangerously. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, his desk phone rang. Not breaking eye contact, he answered. “Hello? ...Yes, I heard. I’ve got some of my best men en route right now…” He sat to take the phone call, finally breaking eye contact. He pointed a threatening finger at Wells and then motioned impatiently for him to leave.

Wells exited the office, exhaling a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding. One of his coworkers noticed his troubled expression and joked “New captain bust your balls a little?”

Wells managed to laugh at that. “I think it’s safe to say that I hate my job at the moment,” he joked back.

The older officer nodded. “Yeah, this guy is way different compared to Peter, but who knows, maybe we all just need to get used to his style of leadership.”

Wells faked a smile to keep the peace, not feeling the need to counter his opinion. “Maybe,” was all that he said. Then he returned to his desk to look over notes for the Pattillo case (another dead-end case) when he wondered suddenly if maybe Vav had observed something at either of these crime scenes.

He was mulling over a way to get in contact with him, when he remembered three important factors. One, that X-Ray and Vav most likely lived in the same home, or at the very least lived near each other. Two, that X-Ray was now lying in a hospital bed, and his home address had to be on one of the admittance forms. Three, that Wells had a very good friend that worked in the records office of the very same hospital. With a calculated smirk, he started packing for a trip to the hospital.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

It was about three hours after the hospital visit that Gavin had an unexpected visitor. Which was a bit of a shame, really, because for once he was actually making progress on his work. He was flying through editing project after project, and only stopped for minimal breaks. Yes, he was technically avoiding his problems, but at least in his mind he was being productive.

That stopped abruptly when he heard a firm knock on the door. He walked up to it curiously, wondering who could be trying to contact him, especially at this time of day. “Could it be Ray’s family? They shouldn’t be here until tomorrow…” he thought as he walked closer. He was just about to open the door when he heard the person on the other side clear his throat. Gavin froze.

“No… It couldn’t be. Is that- is that Detective Wells?” He felt a panic start to rise up in his chest. “Surely it can’t be him; he doesn’t know where we live,” he thought, trying to rationalize as he peaked through the peephole at the visitor. There was no mistaking that face, it was Wells after all. “Oh, bloody hell…”

Trying to come up with a way to ditch the earnest detective, Gavin crept quietly away from the door and turned off his computer monitor lest it make some sort of noise. It was quiet for a minute, then another unnerving knock; Gavin took to curling up on the floor in an effort to stay as quiet as possible. He was definitely _not_ cowering in his own apartment, of course not. What reason was there to be afraid of Wells, besides the fact that he reminded Gavin of all the things he should be doing, but wasn’t.

Then Wells started calling through the door loudly. “Vav, are you there? It’s Detective Wells. I got your address from the hospital.” A pause, then “We really need to talk, if you’re not busy. It’s about the Stark case. I was hoping to compare notes about the evidence that you collected.”

Gavin waited until he heard the frustrated detective sigh in defeat. He listened as Wells scribbled a note and slid it partly under the door and started walking down the hall, his footfalls fading into the distance. Then the Brit rose and went to investigate the note that had been left for him.

It was a short note, simply said “Think we need to talk and compare notes on some cases, things not adding up.” Underneath that was a phone number and a signature, Henry Wells.

Gavin sighed. “Coward,” he muttered to himself as he threw himself on the couch and curled up helplessly, pressing his face against his knees.

Because he knew. He knew this couldn’t keep happening; he couldn’t avoid Wells forever, couldn’t escape the choice that he had to make. Abandon Ray and run? Or stay and risk his life again and again for people that don’t even recognize how hard he works? And of course in the end it wasn’t even a choice.

He would stay. Leaving Ray had never been a real option, and he finally admitted that to himself as he brought his head back up and gazed down at the number in front of him. Especially not now, when his best friend needed him the most. He would stay, there was no X-Ray without Vav.

Gavin knew that he had to toughen up, and fast, at least for Ray’s sake. And even though he knew that, he decided to put off calling Detective Wells just yet. After all, the man left this note here not five minutes ago, it would be obvious that Gavin had been hiding. Hell, maybe Wells already knew. “Just… not yet.” Gavin muttered, suddenly sleepy. He adjusted so that he was laying curled up on the couch, nuzzling the armrest for comfort as he drifted into a dreamless sleep. “Soon, not yet.”

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Mogar strolled down the dim hallway toward the ammunitions storeroom. Ever since his little “chat” with the Mad King, he had been allowed to wander the base to familiarize himself with his surroundings. If anyone ever got a chance to see him now, they would never guess that less than a week ago, he’d been unconscious in a makeshift life support chamber, half alive.

In just four short days, his condition had been stabilized, and he was learning more and more about the English language every minute. His progress was nothing short of a miracle. The Mad King attributed this rapid progress with his devoted team of medical personnel, and E-2 gained all the credit of a mentor. Although Mogar had to acknowledge their role in his recovery, he knew things about himself that they didn’t, and thus credited his own abilities instead.

His people had made him a tribal warrior at a very young age, and there was a reason for that. These “abilities” that he possessed, they commanded fear amongst all he’d ever come across. Which is why the Mad King’s smug demeanor puzzled the ancient warrior as much as it annoyed him. “If he only knew… But no, better to keep that to myself,” he thought to himself.

He glanced around the corridor he was walking in. Extremely dim lighting, muffled noises of motion far above; they were underground, really far down. Far enough that most people probably didn’t know of the existence of these old but restored and well-kept tunnels. He turned his attention to the numerous people walking through the base, each with their own distinct role in the organization. Each man had the same basic hairstyle, and a dark suit matching the one that he’d been given when they released him from his room for the first time.

_“This is your uniform,” the Mad King emphasized. “While you wear this suit, you are one of us. Take care that you stay one of us. The minute I suspect that you’ve betrayed us will be a moment that you regret for whatever short time you have left.” The threat was not lost upon Mogar, and he nodded to indicate that he understood._

_Then he spoke up. “Are you going to change my name?” he asked. It was a question that had been on his mind for a while, ever since he found out that E-2 actually had another, separate name._

_A deep, dark rumble of a laugh came from the direction of the beast. “That’s not quite how it works, no. I won’t be assigning you a name just yet; you need to prove yourself first and then I will give you one. So for now, just keep your eyes open, and look for every opportunity to be useful to us. It will speed up the process.”_

That was the day before, and today when he’d awoken, E-2 was there to tell him to report to the ammunitions storeroom, where he would meet up with E-6, soon to be his combat leader. “The interview is just a formality,” his mentor assured him as he dressed up in his dark suit and sleepily asked for directions to the room.

Mogar stopped walking. He had arrived; in front of him a sign read “ammunitions storehouse”, it was impossible to miss. Because he still didn’t trust his skills in English just yet (despite that fact that he was able to form sentences that were more complex than the ones he previously spoke, just the day before) he stared at the sign and reread it a few times to be sure he was right. Then he finally gathered up enough courage to walk in.

E-6 was waiting patiently for him, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. At the sight of the newcomer, E-6 quirked up the corners of his mouth in an expectant smirk. “I was wondering when you would get here, “warrior”. Did you get lost or something?”

Mogar remained silent, not wanting to admit that he had doubted his sense of direction the entire way there, berating himself silently for being so slow. E-6 laughed. “I guess E-2 didn’t teach you about jokes yet, huh? You were supposed to laugh.” Mogar attempted to laugh now, but it sounded harsh and unconvincing. E-6 raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, no more jokes then.”

He motioned for Mogar to come closer, then pointed to one of the chairs at the ammo checkout table. “Have a seat, newbie. What’s your name?”

“Mogar,” he replied quickly.

E-6 stared at him for a second. “And you actually like that? Hell, I thought someone said your name was Michael. Actually yeah, I’m gonna call you Michael until you get your name.”

Mogar opened his mouth to protest, offended. What kind of name was Michael? Mogar was a name symbolizing strength, endurance, courage, things that actually meant something to a warrior. But Mogar ended up closing his mouth again. “Have to go along, just until I break out of here,” he thought, forcing patience onto his usually aggressive mind.

Instead, he asked “What’s your name?” After all, if this guy knew his name, he might as well return the favor. But then Mogar noticed a shadow pass over E-6’s face.

“We don’t speak our real names while we’re in the tunnels. It’s forbidden,” he replied simply, but his tone hinted Mogar to not ask again.

Unfortunately for him, Mogar was too stubborn to respond to his social cue. “Why, what happens if we do?”

There was a heavy and uncomfortable silence as E-6 debated on what to tell the newcomer. Finally, “Listen, Michael, if the boss ever uses your name, your real name, once you are assigned a title… It’s never a good sign. Once he uses your street name instead of the one that he’s given you, it’s a little like he’s disowning you from the organization. It’s the real-world equivalent to getting fired.”

Mogar’s eyebrows quirked up. “Wait, so… you mean…”

E-6 nodded at his subordinate slowly. “Yeah; I mean, ‘fired’. Do you really think a big crime boss like the Mad King would just let you walk away after being in this business? But don’t worry, as long as you don’t quit, and you don’t piss anyone off enough to be fired, you’ll do fine. Like it or not, we’re in it for the long haul.”

Mogar huffed indignantly. “I never said I was worried.”

E-6 walked toward the ammo checkout table with various boxes in his hands, probably the different types of ammunition that Mogar had to learn about. He again motioned to the chair. “Anyway, go on and sit down. You’ve been temporarily assigned to my unit, so I’m gonna show you the basics on our weapons for now. I don’t think that you’ll be ready to learn how to shoot just yet,” he briefly looked up from the boxes of ammo to scrutinize the warrior in front of him.

“But that’s fine. First of all, this is a gun. One type of gun, anyway,” The combat leader set down a pistol in front of Mogar. “This particular type is a pistol. Standard issue, which means that it’s not personalized in any way. This specific gun,” E-6 laid a hand on one of the ammo boxes. “uses .09 millimeter bullets, like these in the box. Here.” He opened the box and handed Mogar a bullet to study.

They heard some commotion going on down the hallway but paid it no mind at present. “So if standard issue means that it’s not personalized, that means that some guns _are_ personalized, right?” Mogar asked, knowing that he probably sounded dumb for asking, but he needed the clarification. This gun study was already fascinating to him.

The combat leader nodded. “That’s right. You can customize a gun with different grips, barrels (that’s the part of the gun that the bullet shoots out of, right here), that kind of thing.”

Before Mogar could ask another question about the gun, the commotion grew noticeably louder. Then, it almost sounded as if people were firing guns somewhere inside the base, somewhere close. E-6 brow furrowed and he took a step toward the door. “What the hell-“

The Mad King himself then burst into the room, and the shouts of fellow E-members could be heard over the sound of gunfire, coming in louder than ever before. E-6 was at the ready, loading bullets into the empty gun he held as his boss slammed the door behind them. Both E-6 and Mogar fought back a surge of fear as the beast turned to face them, in a rage.

He turned to E-6 in a tone that would make most men cower in fear. “What the _fuck_ are you doing back here, are you deaf?! Did you not hear the guns going off down here, we are UNDER FUCKING ATTACK and I can’t even trust my own combat unit leader to defend the base?! Are you fucking KIDDING ME?!” the beast roared furiously.

“I’m sorry sir, I have no excuse,” E-6 replied in a slightly shaking voice, the gun now fully loaded.

“Get out there!” the Mad King yelled, and opened the door again. E-6 rushed through the door gun-first, and as the beast started to follow him out of the room, his eyes snapped to Mogar suddenly. Mogar shivered involuntarily at the crazed look he was receiving. “Stay the fuck in here until I come back for you,” he commanded and then shut the door firmly behind him.

Mogar listened as the door locked from the other side. He was left sitting alone in a room full of unfamiliar weapons. He let out a shaky breath then and eyed the mounted guns along the wall, all in a protective glass casing. Not knowing what else to do, he turned his attention to the guns and started to closely inspect them, turning over in his mind how they must work.

It wasn’t until about half an hour later that the sounds of yelling and gunfire died down, and Mogar listened closely for the sound of the Mad King’s footsteps, waiting to be released from the room. As the dreaded footsteps finally came, Mogar wondered suddenly if he couldn’t figure out how to shoot one of these guns now; he’d watched E-6 closely as he loaded the gun, and he thought that maybe he could imitate that. But as the sound of footfalls stopped in front of the door, and the door tumblers could be heard in the still air, Mogar quickly changed his mind. That wouldn’t be brave, it would be foolish! Unfortunately, he would have to play by this monster’s rules… for the moment.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Ryan was at the counter of the bar again, waiting on his regulars when a strange group of men sauntered through the doorway. The beast inside became immediately suspicious, but all that Ryan did was greet the newcomers nonchalantly. “Evening. What can I get for you all?” he asked kindly. Some of the patrons had looked up at the arrival of the strange group of men, but then went back to their own drinks and conversations.

None in the strange group bothered to answer Ryan. He frowned; it was rather rude to walk into someone else’s establishment and then just stand there like unwanted statues. But ever the gracious host, he tried again. “Sorry, I… couldn’t hear you. Did you want a few minutes to decide? I can put a couple tables together for you all to sit at while you wait, if you want.” Still no response. Ryan was starting to feel a bit frustrated at this point, and then that’s when he saw them. Two more groups of men, one just outside the bar, the other watching from across the street.

“Dammit, it looks like a rival gang. And there’s a lot of them!” Ryan thought, but managed to keep his face neutral. Before he could call out to his customers, to warn them to get down, the first group of men all pulled out guns and pointed at the customers.

A collective gasp was heard from most of the patrons as one of the men finally spoke up. “I suggest that all of you leave right now, while we are still giving you the option to do so. We’re feeling generous today. All the regulars in the bar rose slowly from their seats with their hands raised, although no one had told them to do so, and as fast as their shaky legs could carry them, exited the bar.

Ryan didn’t flinch when the two groups waiting outside slowly crowded into the bar. He heard the faint sound of light tapping in the cellar below, as if the building was settling. It wasn’t, it was his secret code with his top member. Which meant that E-1 knew the situation, and was alerting the others. He just had to stall for time. With a displeased glare, he addressed the crowd of gang members in front of him. “That was inappropriate. You do not simply walk into my bar and start threatening my customers and ordering them to leave. You’re going to ruin my business.” He spoke between clenched teeth.

A different man from the original spoke then, in a mocking tone. “Well, you won’t have to worry about your precious business for too much longer…” The beast came alive within as his name was spoken. “…Mad King.”

Quick as lightning, the Mad King jumped behind the bar for cover as bullets littered the wall just behind where he’d been standing. He heard glass shattering above him as he crawled toward the cellar door, where he saw the silhouettes of a few of his men, lying in wait for the signal. “My alcohol, these damn hoodlums,” Ryan thought with regret as he felt splashes of liquid soak through the back of his shirt. Behind the counter, he slipped his medallion out from under his work shirt and pulled out a hidden gun from behind a shelf. He was ready to fight back.

A sharp whistle tore through the air as he summoned his men for the first round of attacks. E-1 led the rest as they poured into the room and fired at the crowd before them. A few men in front started going down, while others started firing back. The Mad King popped up from behind the counter at last and joined his men in firing at the strangers.

However, despite their best efforts, the men found themselves losing ground to the intruding crowd. The Mad King growled internally, but knew there was no use losing more of his men out in the open like this; better to lure them downstairs where his men would have an advantage. With that, he signaled his men to retreat, and they all headed backwards, down toward the underground base. The strangers mistakenly saw the retreat as a victory and didn’t think twice about following them down.

As they ran down, toward the rest of the E-units, E-1 started shouting orders to everyone for emergency defense. The Mad King scanned the crowd for E-6 and felt a rage build up in him when he realized that the combat leader was nowhere in sight. “Where the fuck is E-6?” the beast growled to E-1.

“He might still be in the ASR with the new guy,” E-1 reported to his boss, meanwhile training his gun on the entrance as he waited for the enemy to appear.

“Keep everything under control, I’ll get him myself,” the Mad King yelled at his right-hand man while he sprinted down the hallway toward Ammo Storage. He heard E-1 yelling commands and guns starting to fire as the intruders foolishly rushed into the base. Reaching the door, he threw it open and started roaring at E-6 the moment he saw him. It was unacceptable; no matter what, he was supposed to be on tight guard in case of these emergencies, and should have been on the way to help the moment he heard the shouting.

“Are my men becoming lazy…?” he thought to himself as he watched E-6 run out of the room. After a few seconds, the beast decided not to punish him. “After all, I suppose he was acting on my orders to teach Mogar more about our weaponry. As long as it doesn’t happen again, I will let it slide,” he thought, turning to look at the ancient warrior in front of him.

Speaking of Mogar, he looked extremely confused at the situation. The Mad King wished that he could see the warrior’s fighting in action, but he couldn’t risk losing Mogar now. He was too much of an asset to the organization right now. Sighing inwardly, he ordered Mogar to stay put, rushed out and locked the door behind him, just in case. He ran through the corridor to assist his men. These intruders didn’t even know that they didn’t know who they were dealing with.

After twenty minutes of standstill combat, the Mad King’s men pretended to lose ground to lure the strangers off of the staircase and into the center of the base. As soon as they succeeded in that, the strangers found themselves surrounded on all sides by E-units. The remaining fools surrendered and asked for mercy.

The Mad King walked deliberately slow, until he was in front of the small band of cowering men. “Well now, this didn’t really work out for you, did it?” His dark and twisted laugh echoed in the base, causing the men to shiver even more. The laugh died down into unbreakable silence. The beast turned his attention back to his men briefly. “Check all the fallen for survivors, take our guys to the med room, kill the rest of these assholes,” he instructed, and his men went off immediately to do as he said.

All that remained with him were his most trusted employees, all of them still aiming their guns at the defeated strangers. E-1 spoke up. “What do you want us to do with _them,_ boss? Shall we kill them?”

“Eventually, yes. Take them to our ‘special’ guest rooms for now. You know what to do, boys,” he sneered down at them. “Take your time, too. I want to question them all myself.” He suddenly aimed his gun down and started shooting the men in the legs, so they wouldn’t try to escape. Their cries of agony echoed in the cold base, but the beast didn’t flinch at the noise. “Punish them… Slowly.”

Then he remembered that he had to unlock the door for Mogar to get out. “I’ll be there shortly. Start without me,” he ordered as he walked briskly back toward the ASR. As he stood outside the door with the key in hand, he paused to consider that Mogar may be holding a gun to the door right now, waiting for him to return. It wouldn’t be too surprising; his comprehension abilities were remarkable, and he caught up on things so quickly…

Just to be safe, he unlocked the door and stood to the side of the doorway as it swung open. After half a minute, he heard the warrior call out “H-hello?” The beast peaked into the room, and seeing that he wasn’t holding a weapon, gave him a surprisingly genuine smile. Good boy…

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But I’ve already had one security breach today, and I didn’t want to risk another. Come on, you can go back to your room for today. E-2 will stop by later for your daily English review.” The Mad King said warmly.

Mogar hesitated upon exiting the room, and turned to the beast to ask a question. “Soo… What happened? Who were they?”

A shadow passed over the Mad King’s face, a look so dark that Mogar couldn’t stop a tremor passing through him. “We’re about to find that out tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll debrief you personally once it’s all sorted out.” His face changed back to a neutral expression. “For now, just go back to your room and relax.”

He walked away without waiting to see Mogar leave the room. As such, he didn’t see the warrior secretly walk back into the room, conceal a gun under his shirt and pocket some bullets before finally leaving for his own room.


	11. Cowardice, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so it's been quite a while since I've updated! Yeah, sorry about that, had major writer's block. But thanks to darkrose705, I was finally able to move past it and post this chapter. So with that being said, I also would like to put a warning on this chapter in particular because it describes a torture scene, so just in case anyone wants to skip over that, it's the first 13 paragraphs of this chapter. Thanks for listening to me ramble, and enjoy the next part of this story!

The Mad King stood silently in front of the one remaining man from the rival invasion. The rest had been properly dealt with and disposed of… in front of the last man, whom the beast had identified as the leader of the attack. The man twisted and writhed in fear under his constraints, the silence forcing him to remember what had happened to his men; and what ultimately would be done to him. He tried begging again, for the hundredth time that night.   
“Please, ju-just let me go! I won’t tell anyone where you are, I swear it! I’ll tell you anything!” he broke down crying then, bringing a dark smile to the beast’s face.  
“I never thought I’d see you cry, Herschel. It is Herschel, isn’t it? Leader of the Devil Runners Gang? I’ve been wondering when we would ever meet,” he nodded to E-1 at his right, who then walked over to the confined man and grasped one of his hands, holding a blunt knife in the other hand.  
Frantic cries of protest started up in Herschel. “Please, NO!!” But E-1 did as the Mad King wished, and started sawing off the prisoner’s index fingers as he tried to ignore the tormented cries of the man.   
The beast furrowed his brow. “No? What do you mean, no? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His voice lowered dangerously as he took a menacing step closer to the crying man. “You came into MY establishment, scared away MY customers, shot up MY bottles of alcohol and killed seventeen of MY men! That’s not even me mentioning all the injured that I have on my hands! The person that should be saying ‘no’ is me! You fucking asked for this, you knew what would happen if you went toe-to-toe with me, and here you are, paying for it with your blood. I have no sympathy for you!”  
The man fell into incoherent sobs and pleas, but the beast stared down at him coldly. E-1 finished removing both fingers from the man and placed them to the side, as per the Mad King’s orders. Now deprived of part of his hand, the man croaked out “Please! No more!”  
The Mad King glowered at the prisoner. “Oh, we’re almost done here, Herschel, I promise. And if you answer me this one little thing, I will end it quickly.” He leaned just a bit closer to the doomed man and asked in a quiet voice. “How did you find me? Who told you about us?” His voice darkened with quiet rage. “Who, was it?”   
He already had his suspicions about who it could be. Father Goeff, perhaps, or maybe K was involved somehow. He had many enemies already, but something about those two in particular didn’t feel right to him. The way that they had just happened to “stumble” onto him and knew who he was, how to find him. They had fallen into his life under the most mysterious of circumstances, and the Mad King was definitely no fan of those kinds of surprises.  
Herschel whimpered, his lip quivering as he fought hard to control his voice to answer. “I… I don’t know…” The Mad King kicked the rival boss in the gut so hard that he vomited out the contents of his stomach. He tried to speak through the strands of spit now hanging from his dry lips. “I really don’t know who he is! There was a note left at our hangout, and it said ‘How to find the Mad King’ and then it was just a list of directions. I swear, I don’t know anything else!”  
“Do you have proof? Is it with you now?” When the man didn’t speak right away, the Mad King roared “Answer me!”  
“In my pocket…” the man in front of him wheezed with some difficulty. The Mad King nodded at E-1, who approached while putting on a pair of gloves and searched until he found the bloodstained piece of paper. It looked just as Herschel had described. “Please just let me go…”  
The Mad King examined the paper closely, holding it carefully so as to leave a minimum of fingerprints on it. It was typewritten, so there was no handwriting to match it too, and though he would still check, he was fairly certain that there would be no other fingerprints on it either. “Did anyone see this besides you, Herschel?”  
“N-no… Just me and my best men. And they were all here with me. They were all here… Oh, god, all of them are gone…” the man lamented, but the Mad King knew that he wasn’t truly mourning the loss of his subordinates, but his own fast-approaching demise.   
The Mad King smirked down at him. “I guess we were just better. It was nice meeting you at last, Herschel.” He then shot a look at the men on either side of the rival leader and ran a finger across his throat. “Make it quick, boys.”  
His men obeyed, running a knife swiftly along the carotid artery, and Herschel’s body started to spaz frantically against the life leaving his body. Finally, the spurts of blood out of his neck started to slow, and his eyes glazed over with the look of the dead, an expression of pain and fear still on his face as he slumped forward.   
The beast carefully handed the scrap of paper to one of his men. “Take this to the lab, check for fingerprints that don’t belong to me or our friend here. Then dispose of it.” As that employee quickly strode out of the room, the Mad King commanded the remaining men, “Take care of him; send him back to what’s left of his little gang. I don’t think they’ll be bothering us anymore.”  
As the beast turned to leave the room, his mind carefully turned over this new piece of information. Someone knew his location, and was giving it out to enemies. It wasn’t the police; they would have swarmed the place by now. No, this was someone who just plain wanted him dead, wanted his men to scatter, and wanted the business to be ruined. But the question was, who could know? And how did they know?  
An empty smile formed on his face as he considered his next move. It seemed to be just the right time to pay K a little visit. Relieve some stress and get some questions answered all at once? Sounded good enough to the crime boss.   
Before he could leave the base, one of his lower-ranking men approached him with some additional news. “Boss. I’ve rounded up all of the customers disturbed by today’s ‘incident’. I paid them off; they won’t be going to the police, so we don’t have to worry about the cops showing up or investigating the bar.” The Mad King quirked an eyebrow, impressed with the man’s ambition.   
“Your rank?” the crime boss inquired with great interest.   
“Edgar 89, boss.” E-89 replied in anticipation.   
“Sounds like you deserve a promotion pretty soon. You’re under E-15’s command, aren’t you? I’ll speak to him about it tonight.” the Mad King promised, earning a nod from E-89 before he allowed his boss to pass.  
\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
Korah was lounging around her house when her business cellphone started to buzz. Once she glanced it over, a smug grin formed on her face; a call from the Mad King himself? Now this she had to hear. “Hello?” the brunette asked in a sultry tone; her siren call, just one of the ways she could sound seductive. Of course, it wasn’t a hard thing at all for her to do, being naturally attractive to most men; but she found it very effective to do these extra things for an assured victory.  
The Mad King answered in a gruff voice. “I really hope that your offer still stands; I could use some time away.” Korah’s grin widened further; even the big and tough crime boss was still a man, after all.   
“Of course it does, love. I always keep my word; I’m just like you in that regard. So, when and where shall we meet?” Korah sauntered over to her wardrobe; she had to be dressed to kill tonight if she wanted to cement this alliance with the Mad King.  
“There’s a motel on the corner of Seventh and Lawrence. Meet me outside in two hours.” The brunette heard a click as he hung up the phone immediately after. She sighed, not expecting to have to wait so long until the meet up. Then a smile formed on her face again. This just gave her more time to prepare. This time around, the Mad King would not be able to resist her at all.  
But of course, that was a given. Korah absentmindedly toyed with the pendant on the chain around her neck. “This little artifact ensures that I have no trouble at all with the boys,” she thought to herself with a bitter laugh. It was imperative that she keep this necklace near her tonight, no matter at what stage of undress she may find herself in.  
Two hours later she was standing outside of the agreed-upon motel, the air hot and humid around her. She looked around, slightly annoyed; the humidity was making her sweat and messing up her hair. She needed to keep up an appearance for the Mad King, but he was making that a bit difficult by having her stand outside alone like this. Before she could turn away and head home again, convinced that he’d stood her up, she saw a figure walking swiftly toward her.  
Korah smiled. “Hello there, handsome,” she purred, recognizing the crime lord in an instant.   
He returned the smile. “You look lovely, as always, miss,” the beast replied cordially. Korah felt a twinge of annoyance; he didn’t seem remotely affected by her efforts to seduce him. Oh well, considering the reasons they were here in the first place, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true.  
“Shall we go in, then?” she asked with a wink. The Mad King wordlessly took her arm and led her into the motel to check in. The brunette noticed a sudden flush of hear from when his fingers brushed against the small of her back. She forced herself to focus; now was not the time to let herself be distracted over a man. There were so many more where he had come from.  
The beast flashed a charming smile at the receptionist, a dull and plain woman who couldn’t hold back the flustered grin that crossed her face at his attention. The Mad King had no problem making small talk with the woman, keeping her captivated by his eyes alone, it seemed. Korah swallowed, feeling no less affected by him than the receptionist, though she was here on a mission.  
The crime boss made it clear to the receptionist that they were not to be disturbed for any reason, and she had seemed eager to comply with his wishes. Soon they were making their way up to their newly claimed motel room. The minute the door closed behind them, Korah felt the Mad King’s lips against her own, demanding and insistent. She practically melted under his touch, despite the logical side of her brain warning her against his advances. She knew how important it was for her to keep this encounter separate from their professional relationship, but her heart hammered in her chest and she fell to the overwhelming power of her senses, letting her eyes drift close.   
She let a small moan escape from her throat as she felt an arm snake around her waist to pull her closer. Then, just as suddenly, the Mad King leaned away from her and shoved her roughly onto the bed. The brunette looked up in expectation as the crime boss crawled over her and set his hips firmly against her own, effectively pinning her into place.   
But what happened next was a complete surprise to the woman, who had thought that she’d prepared for any and all outcomes. She certainly overlooked the possibility of an attack. Without warning, the beast wrapped his hands around her throat and applied pressure. Despite her cry of alarm and her desperate attempts to pull his hands away, to throw him off of her entirely, he kept a firm hold on her neck. Korah couldn’t look away from the cold blue eyes in front of her even if she wanted to. “What the hell are you doing?” she managed to hiss out at him in anger.  
Ignoring her question, the beast countered with one of his own. “How did you find my base?” The girl under him remained silent at the question, still struggling against his grip. Impatience took over and he brought a hand up to smack her hard across her face, earning a pained yelp from the brunette.  
The Mad King loomed menacingly over the shaking woman. She looked up at him helplessly, as frail as ever. “Did you underestimate me, perhaps?” he asked in a dark tone, a malicious smile spreading across his features. This was a smile from a different type of pleasure entirely; he had the power of control over her, and they both knew it.  
She took more time answering than the beast cared for, so he exerted a little more pressure against her throat to remind her of the situation she was in. She squeaked in fear before answering. “I’m sorry,” was all that she could manage to say, staring into his eyes with hate while a few tears dropped down her cheeks in rebellion.   
“Then answer me. How,” the Mad King growled between clenched teeth. “-did you find me?”  
Looking away in defeat, the trapped woman murmured “It’s hard to explain…”  
Sensing that the use of force was no longer necessary, the beast let go of her throat and sat himself upright, allowing her more room, but not getting off of her in case she decided to run for it. “I’m listening. We’ve got this room for the rest of the night…” A devilish smile formed on his face. “We have all the time in the world right now.”  
She let out a sigh, still not looking at him. “I was… approached by someone. A man. Before you ask, I didn’t get a look at him completely. His face was hidden by a hood, and clothing hid the rest of his body, so I couldn’t tell you his ethnicity either. He was probably about 5’8”, or maybe 5’9”. He didn’t say much, hell I don’t even know how he found me but, he said he could help me find what I was looking for. Then he gave me a sealed envelope, told me not to open it unless I was alone.”  
She took a deep breath and didn’t say anything for a minute, so the Mad King cleared his throat loudly to force her to continue. She took the hint. “It was a note with instructions, how to approach you, who you were. It gave me an address. Your address. But that’s honestly all that I could tell you. I’ve had no further contact since; at least, not that I’m aware of.” She stopped speaking and looked up at the Mad King expectantly, waiting for him to get off of her.  
But the Mad King didn’t seem to be doing that. “And you’re sure that you’ve told me everything that you know about this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.  
Rage surged through Korah then. “Of course I have! I’m not an idiot, you would probably kill me if you found out otherwise, and I’m not too keen on dying anytime soon.” Then she took another breath to calm herself; her anger wasn’t helping her right now. “Look, I told you what you wanted to know, so just… Just let me go, alright? After I’m finished paying you, you never have to see me again. I promise.”  
Initially he’d had no plans of letting her go, but seeing as he had bigger issues on hand at the moment, he was reluctant to add disposing of a young woman’s body to the growing list. Wordlessly, he shifted so that most of his weight was off of her, and she slid herself out from under him and hurried to the door without looking back. A pity, really, that he’d had to interrogate her before anything else could happen, but the information that she held was much more valuable than the brief pleasure she would have given him otherwise.  
A deep frown formed on his face, as he rolled off of the bed and also headed for the door. Now he had a problem. Someone was giving out his location. But how? Nobody should know about the tunnels, unless…  
He stopped walking in the middle of the hallway, a young and drunk couple struggling to stumble around him to their own room for the night. “No,” he thought, before resuming his walk to the exit, even quicker than before. “No. It couldn’t be. I was always careful. I never hired someone that I couldn’t trust.”  
He was alone now, outside on a deserted back road where he couldn’t stop the suspicions from entering his mind. The Mad King reached up and tangled his fingers into his light brown hair, pulling on it in frustration. “Damn it!” he roared aloud to the sky as he finally reached a breaking point, allowing the beast within to override Ryan completely.  
It had to be one of his men. No one else knew their location. He had seen to that very thoroughly. It was well hidden, a perfectly protected secret. He snarled to himself, making his way to the base on a mission.   
He would pretend that he didn’t know, and simply observe for the moment. Then he would meet with the traitor and end him personally. He would make the guilty party suffer so much, it would make Herschel’s death look like a kindness.  
\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
Jack was busy working. Not on his plan to make the Mad King suffer and die (though that would always be a priority for the redhead) but working on cleaning Caiti’s house while the young woman was away at work.  
Though he was still adamant that Caiti should never find out about his plans, in case she got put in the way of danger on his behalf, he also felt the need to help around the house. Caiti had smiled and told him that she didn’t mind if he continued hiding at her place for a while as he came up with a better escape plan out of town, he felt guilty that she wouldn’t let him pay for anything.  
If he was being completely honest with himself, it was hurting his pride more than anything.  
So here he was, the brilliant Dr. Jack Pattillo, on his hands and knees with a scrub brush, scrubbing the kitchen floor. Caiti kept her house very neat and tidy, but Jack knew that she’d had a lot on her mind lately, and less time to clean up around the house. Which was understandable, what with all the work she had to do on a regular basis paired with the fact that she was housing an escaped mental patient that the police were desperate to find.   
The least that Jack could do was do some of the housework while she was out, as a little surprise. Then it was back to his plans of murdering the psycho that had ruined his life. He was just finishing up the kitchen and was about to start in on vacuuming the living and dining rooms, when he accidentally bumped the table as he stood up, causing a stack of papers to fly off of it and onto the newly cleaned floor.   
He started hastily gathering the papers together, stacking them back up as neatly as he could. He couldn’t help himself from looking at the top paper as he placed them back onto the table. It seemed to be a very important official document, congratulating Caiti on her new position as an Australian representative on the National Science Board… wait, what?   
Jack really couldn’t help it now, shamelessly reading through the document. “She just recently accepted this new position too. If anyone ever found out that I was here, she would probably lose the position. Why risk so much for some has-been mad genius that no one cares about anymore?” Even more guilt started to flood through his system, and he stooped back down to the floor to pick up the discarded scrub brush.   
Just then, there was a very firm, very loud knock on the door. Jack froze in his kneeling position on the floor, afraid to get up in case someone looked through the window and saw him.  
What if it was the police? What if it was the Mad King? What if… what if it was someone from Caiti’s family?  
Or could it be a boyfriend?  
Before he could gather his courage to go and peek out of a window, an envelope was shoved under the door and there were heavy footsteps jogging away from the house. By the time that Jack reached the door and lifted the curtain to look outside, there wasn’t a soul in sight.  
“Well that was weird…”  
The redhead glanced down at the envelope, at first mildly curious, but upon closer inspection his curiosity grew into worry. Right on the front of it, in clear print, was his name. Someone knew.  
He ripped open the envelope and read its contents with shaking hands. It was a pathetically short letter, and as he read it over three, four, five times, his fear lessened and instead was replaced with a feeling of triumph.   
Dr. Pattillo,  
I know who you are and I know what you seek. The time to take your revenge is near. This is your chance.  
Use it wisely.  
Under that was a list of directions, and finally, an address. He read the short note just once more for good measure, a devilish grin on his face. Take your revenge, it had said. That could only mean one thing for him. He couldn’t help but laugh, a sound terrifyingly unstable and malicious. “So this is where you live, your royal highness? Well, it looks like I had better stop and pay a visit…” he said darkly, excitement dancing in his bright blue eyes. Entirely forgetting his vacuuming plans, he dashed to his own “base”, in Caiti’s backyard toolshed.   
Soon.  
\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
Fire engulfed the house. Always the fire. He watched, frozen in horror as his entire life burned to the ground. And she was still in there. That thought alone spurred him to try running to the house, with no plan and no means by which to quell the rising flame.  
His only thoughts were to get to her, and now. He could save her. If he couldn’t save her, it wouldn’t be so bad if they died together. She couldn’t be alone. What about their children, were they also still inside? He had to find out.  
Strong arms gripped him and as he looked up in a frantic state, he met the pitying gaze of his fire captain, Lance Hanson. Lance shook his head slowly. “Stay put, Geoff. We’re doing all we can to put it out.”  
“Let me in there! I have to help!”  
“Son, you don’t have the tools to fight the fire right now. Count on us, your team, to help you right now. Erickson and Masters are getting their trucks ready now…” As if on cue, Erickson ran up to them, yelling something to the captain that Geoff didn’t quite catch. “What do you mean, the hydrants have been sabotaged? Do something about it, NOW!” Hanson roared at him, and that was enough of a distraction for Geoff to break free of his grip and run to the house.  
It was quiet inside.   
It was too silent for a house on fire, full of people. There was nothing but the sound of crackling fire as Geoff rushed in, burning his hand on the door as he shoved it open. It had left a permanent scar on him that day, and it wasn’t the only scar he suffered from.   
“But wait, I’m not Geoff anymore. It’s been so long since I’ve been him.” Goeff thought as he blinked his eyes open. He couldn’t focus, there seemed to be a woman standing over him at the moment, but he couldn’t quite see her right or understand what she was saying to him. Was it Griffon?  
No, Griffon’s hair was shorter, and not quite as… red.  
Still in a half-waking state, straddling the line between dreams and reality, Goeff muttered “I can be Geoff if I find a bucket.”  
The unknown woman stared at him in confusion; his words had no meaning to her. “Sir, wait!” She called after him as he jumped from the bed he’d been sleeping on and ran out into a grimy hallway, searching for the bucket that he thought could save his family.  
“Sir, you’re confused, you’ve been dreaming! I came to check on you because you were crying out in your sleep,” the woman explained calmly, placing a hand on Goeff’s shoulder once she caught up with him. He blinked at her, slowly losing his sense of dream logic.  
Finding a bucket couldn’t help him now.  
“A dream,” he said, and seemed to visibly deflate in front of the stranger. “It was… a dream this time.”  
“Sir, what did you say your name was, Geoff?”  
“No, not… no. It’s… I’m Goeff now,” he sighed, running a shaking hand through his dark brown hair.   
The woman smiled at him. “Goeff, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Lindsay. Do you know where you are?”  
His blue eyes stared blankly into her green ones. “No.”  
Lindsay was patient. “I volunteer for homeless shelter on some of my days off. That’s where you are now. Does that sound familiar to you?”  
Goeff gulped and lowered his eyes. In a low voice, almost as tiny and frightened as a child’s voice, he answered. “Yes.”  
Lindsay took in his dejected countenance but smiled brightly in an attempt to cheer him up. “Well let’s look at the positives now, okay? You had a nice roof over your head and a comfy mattress to sleep on last night. And there’s breakfast in the cafeteria now. Hey, let’s get you some food, and then you might feel a little better!”  
Goeff tried to smile for her sake; he appreciated that she was trying. “Thank you, but I should probably get going now. I only paid for one night in that room; I should probably gather my things so that it’s ready for the next person.”  
Lindsay’s smile wavered slightly, but she didn’t drop it entirely. They both knew it was a lie; he didn’t have anything to bring with him. “Well, be sure to stop by the kitchen on your way out; we have a great menu for this morning, and you might as well eat something before you start your day. I’ll make you something myself!”  
They started to part ways, with Lindsay heading back to the kitchen and Goeff going back to his rented room. Before he opened the door to reenter, he turned his head slightly to the side, not quite looking at her as he said “Don’t worry Lindsay; I think that you’ll find what you’re looking for. Sooner than you think.”  
She smiled at him, not quite believing him. “Yeah. Thanks. See you in a bit,” With that, she disappeared into the cafeteria’s kitchen. Goeff opened the door and stood in the center of the otherwise empty room He sat on the edge of the bed with a heavy heart. A tear escaped from his eye, and then another, but he let them fall as if he didn’t notice.  
He would always have those nightmares, but he hadn’t had one as vivid as last night’s dream for a very long time. Not caring whether anyone heard him or not, Goeff started to cry.  
\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
Detective Wells watched from the side as the news press took statements from Captain Maverick about his latest appointment. He was making the official announcement; the former Captain Peter Whirrel was dead. He didn’t give the reporters more details than they needed, only stating that Whirrel’s colleagues, friends, and family would dearly miss him. He talked of the plans for the funeral that was to be held the next week, as per requested by his family.   
Wells turned away as the swarm of reporters burst into speech about the news, each asking different questions about Maverick’s impressions of the town, the police force, whether he would be attending the funeral, how the family had taken the news of his appointment, etc.  
All things that didn’t matter to the detective. He’d lost a colleague, and a capable supervisor. The rest was unimportant. After a brief visit to X-Ray’s hospital room (still no sign of Vav) he decided to stop by the apartment again.  
After knocking on the door and receiving no answer yet again, he was turning to leave, when he noticed an envelope stuck under the doorway. Slight curiosity set in; after all, he was a detective, it was in his nature to snoop. But he had better manners than to snoop on a fellow investigator. Besides, before he could stoop down and retrieve the envelope for a closer look, he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Footsteps that abruptly stopped once they came around the corner.   
He turned and found an out-of-costume Vav staring at him with a look of apprehensive fear on his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Wells said with a smile as he approached the nervous Brit. “Something wrong?”  
Vav gulped and mumbled “No, why would there be?” He didn’t look at the detective.  
Wells was slightly amused by his reaction. “No need to be scared, Vav. I’m not here to hurt you. I just had some news that I thought you should know about.” The Brit shifted uncomfortably and Wells continued “Or is it Gavin, since you’re off-duty at the moment?”  
Gavin looked up at Wells in alarm, finally meeting his steady gaze. “I- ah, how…”  
“Sorry, guess no one was supposed to know. I found out both your names when I was looking for your address at the hospital.” Wells shrugged. “Anyway, I won’t say anything. If you wanna keep it quiet, I’ll keep it quiet. I came to tell you the date of Captain Whirrel’s funeral.”  
Gavin was staring at the ground. “His… funeral. I figured it would be private, just for family.”  
“No. When you’re in a position of power like Whirrel was, you tend to give up your privacy to be in the public’s eye all the time. Even after you die. Anyway, it’s going to be next week, Saturday. 10 A.M. it will start with a public gathering and remembrance, and then a procession to the graveyard. Now, the burial will be private. But I heard from Whirrel’s wife herself that she wanted to invite you to that, and Ray if he’s able to leave the hospital by next week. I just thought that you should know.” Wells started to walk past Gavin, toward the steps.  
“Wait. I, uh, I got your note from before. I’m sorry that I didn’t get back to you until now, but…” Gavin started, but Wells held up a hand to stop him.  
“It’s alright, Gavin, I’m not here to pester you about a case this time. This was a personal visit, and I try not to mix personal and professional business together if I can help it. We’ll talk later about it.” He turned an intuitive eye on Gavin. “I think that you’ve had enough for one day. Besides, I’ve got a quick errand to run at the hospital. Give me a call tomorrow, okay?”  
Gavin nodded, still facing his apartment. Once he heard the detective’s footsteps fade down the hallway, he walked through his front door and slammed it behind him. Now that had put him in a bad mood, a reminder that the captain was now good and dead. All he’d wanted to do was see Korah; he had just come back from visiting her apartment, but she wasn’t home at the moment. And now this. He was angry; not at Detective Wells, but the Mad King. If it weren’t for him, Captain Whirrel wouldn’t need a funeral. If it weren’t for him, Ray wouldn’t be in the hospital.  
Gavin was done playing the coward, done being the fool. He decided that he was going to take down the Mad King by himself, or else die trying. He would do it for Captain Whirrel; he would do it for Ray. Ray would be pissed as hell if he ever found out that Gavin was going after him alone, but he would just have to get over that.  
He was in such a fury that he almost didn’t notice the envelope that he’d kicked through the door as he stormed inside. “Oh where the bloody hell did this come from?” he mumbled in irritation, his voice still holding the burning anger he felt toward the crime boss. Damn him!  
Inside the envelope was the answer to his wishes. A short note, followed by a set of instructions, as if telling him several spots to explore. An address.  
Vav the unsung hero,  
It’s time to tell your own story. It’s time to prove your worth.   
It’s time to end the Mad King’s reign.  
There are many hidden entrances out there that lead to his base. Take your pick.  
It didn’t take Gavin long to put the pieces together and figure out what the letter meant. It didn’t even bother him that yet another person had discovered his identity. His desire to take down the Mad King crowed out that and any other thoughts or concerns that he might have had. Now he just needed to prepare to take down the crime boss. This time he wouldn’t be sloppy, he would be prepared for any and all tricks that the beast threw at him.  
And he wasn’t going to tell Ray.  
\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
Korah tiptoes silently into Ray’s hospital room, where the New Yorker lay sleeping in his bed. After the previous night, having her life threatened by a crazed criminal, it was surprising even to her that she’d had the courage to venture out on her own. Weren’t those kinds of experiences usually traumatic?  
Well, she was too stubborn to abide by that. She now saw the Mad King clearly as the danger that he had always been. Under that handsome mask was a monster, one that she would have to cross paths with until her payments were complete. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that she could get away without paying for his services, no matter how badly she wanted to be rid of him. But she had a plan for that, one that she was confident would work this time.  
But now wasn’t the time to be thinking those things; she was visiting a friend in the hospital. Well, technically not a friend, since they had only met once, but a friend of a friend. “God, Ray, I thought you were supposed to be getting better. So why are you always asleep when I come around?” she half-pouted, taking a seat in the vacant chair to his right.  
She watched his chest rise and fall in a steady pattern; good, he wasn’t struggling to breathe. She couldn’t help but smile as she observed the peaceful look on his sleeping face. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing that you’re asleep. You make a great listener.” Korah sighed, twirling a single rose in her hand that she’d brought for him.   
“I have a confession to make, actually. It’s kind of embarrassing, since we’ve only met once. But I guess I’ve grown a bit… interested in you. Weird, since Gavin is the one that visits me all the time, but I still can’t stop thinking about… Ahem, okay yeah, this is still weird, even with you asleep. Sorry.” She stood slowly, not wanting to wake him from his rest.   
She bit her lip in uncertainty before finally deciding to leave the lonely rose in the chair that she’d just vacated.


	12. Shots Fired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! An actual update!!! Lol I'm sorry that it's been so long, I have no excuse! Thank you all so much for putting up with the hiatus, I really do appreciate every reader that I have on this story. I hope that my subsequent chapters continue to entertain you all going forward.

The Mad King stood outside of the police station, just on the other side of the street. Everyone passed around him as if he were a nobody; of course no one ever recognized him when he was out and about. He’d made sure of that. Wearing totally inconspicuous clothing and a passive stare, no one on the streets could have realized that they were brushing shoulders with one of the most dangerous men in the city.

Silently, he stepped forward, opening the door to the station and placing an undistinguished package just inside the doorway, then exited as quickly as he had come. No one even noticed him as he did so, or as he made his getaway, walking through a crowd of people with practiced ease.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

 Detective Wells was exiting Ray’s hospital room with a hand rubbing against his temples; he had developed a terrible headache. He was sure that it must have been stress-related, what with how difficult his case was becoming due to the new Captain’s incessant meddling.

His head had started to pound furiously upon walking into Ray’s room. He had been passing by a woman who seemed somehow familiar to him… But then the headache had started up and any inquiry he had thought about making was washed away in a flood of pain. He only stayed briefly to look in on his young friend and have a chat with his presiding physician before deciding to head home early. There was no point in getting back to the station when he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus.

Shortly after returning home and popping some aspirin, he settled on his couch with a favorite book. He waited with some impatience for the aspirin to kick in, which goes to show just how intense the pain really was; Henry Wells wasn’t generally known for impatience. The pounding just got worse, more frequent.

Before long it became apparent that the headache was not fading, and he abandoned reading entirely, letting his book of choice fall to the floor with a thud. He curled in on himself on the couch, head pressed tight against his knees in a feeble attempt to get more comfortable.

This was not normal. Something was wrong, never in his life had he had such a bad headache. The world became a haze, the room was spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning... He would never make it to the phone in time to get help.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, a voice cut through that haze, with one short, simple command. “Obey.” Everything faded.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Caiti asked with apparent doubt in her voice.

Jack flashed her a reassuring smile. “Of course! I’ve had to live in hiding once before, so I should be fine this time around.

Caiti didn’t look convinced. “No offense, but wasn’t that the same time that you got caught by the police after only two days of hiding out?” Jack responded with a disinterested shrug, and she continued speaking. “If it wasn’t for my… job, I would rather have stayed to keep an eye on you. I’m sorry I have to leave so suddenly.”

Jack waved away her concern. “You can’t help that you need to leave. It’s part of your job.” Caiti stared at him with a slight touch of suspicion. In his mind, he thought “Oh right, I’m not supposed to know about that part of her work,” and immediately started backpedaling. “I’m assuming that it’s an important trip?” His former assistant nodded reluctantly.

“Fine. You have a point, I just… Listen, you need to be especially careful. I’m surprised that the police haven’t questioned me more than they have. It’s almost like you’ve been moved to a lower priority on their list. Something is definitely up.”

“That’s a good thing though, isn’t it? They won’t be looking for me as vigorously.”

“In some ways, yes. But we both know that there’s only one other person that they would put above you on the list. And it’s the very same man that you can’t seem to leave alone.” She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want to come back to find you gone because they caught you going after that crime boss. Or worse, I don’t want the Mad King himself to catch you. He won’t go easy on you, not with the history between the two of you. You have to promise me that you won’t do anything stupid while I’m gone. Okay, Jack?”

The redhead took a deep breath before standing from his spot on the couch and gripping her shoulders affectionately.  “I promise. I won’t even leave the house. So don’t worry about me, okay? Have a safe trip. I’ll keep an eye on the house.”

Caiti extricated herself from his hold and walked back towards her suitcases to continue packing, still throwing half warnings his way about staying inside and only venturing out at night, very carefully. Jack merely smiled in response, offering to help her pack only to be declined before settling back in his seat.

With Caiti on high alert, he had to make sure to not draw any attention to the back shed that he had converted into his base. Most of his things were carefully hidden, but Caiti would notice that things were amiss. He had taken to working through the night on a secret weapon that he was sure would end the Mad King’s reign for good. He just had to be careful about keeping it hidden while she was still home. In fact, Jack was determined to not go out there at all until her departure.

To restrain the growing guilt that he felt at lying straight to her face, he reminded himself that it was not the first promise broken, not the first lie told, nor would it be the last of either. It didn’t make him feel any better.

Soon the time came for Caiti to leave for the airport. Her suitcases were completely packed and she stood at the doorway, waiting for a friend to pick her up for a ride. She chewed on her lower lip, deep in thought. Jack thought that it looked as if she was deciding on something, but couldn’t be sure. So he was shocked when she turned to face him, but managed to give her his full attention. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Listen, I know that I just keep repeating the same things over and over, but…” She sighed. “I’m really worried about you. You’re really not the same person that you were, you know.”

Jack was taken aback by that statement. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m still-”

“No. When I first met you, you were Dr. Jack Pattillo, a strict but kind lab supervisor. Even when you had to work with those two from the local community college, you did your best to teach them how to work around the lab. It wasn’t until you started associating with _that man_ ,” her voice turned sour when she referred to the Mad King, “you started to change. You became paranoid, started hiding things from your staff. From me. Then you got into trouble, and he left you to fend for yourself.”

“Exactly!” the redhead hissed, the memory filling him with hate. “Don’t you see? That’s why I have to get him back! I will destroy him the way that he tried to destroy me!”

“That’s not going to help you, you idiot!” Caiti yelled in a loud and harsh tone that was uncharacteristic of her. “How could you not have seen that betrayal coming, when he was the most shifty, shady person that you could ever have associated with? He had the word ‘betrayer’ written all over him, it was _you_ that ignored that! I don’t know why you did, maybe it was want of attention, greed for glory, whatever it was. It doesn’t matter, because he did not destroy you, Jack.”

Jack was done listening. “No.” he fumed and started heading toward the back shed on impulse, his secret base becoming a refuge for him. The only thing that stopped him from walking completely out the back door was the realization that Caiti was following him and he didn’t need her to discover what he was building while they were on this topic. He crossed his arms and leaned in the doorway, not quite looking at her.

“You destroyed you; you’re using him as an excuse. Yes, he did leave you on your own. Yes, he used you. But for fuck’s sake, why did you go along with him in the first place, trust him more than us when we all tried to warn you away? That hurt.” Her voice quivered and the young woman looked away too, jaw locked. A sigh escaped her after a moment of silence. “I don’t want to leave on a bad note. But I just want you to see where I’m coming from, and know that I mean it when I say that I care for you, and don’t want anything bad to happen to you. So please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.” Caiti trailed off into silence.

Something akin to guilt and shame gnawed at Jack, a feeling of discomfort spreading. He merely grumbled an awkward “I promise.” Upon raising his eyes, he was startled by the look that his former assistant was giving him. Borderline pleading, he couldn’t resist adding “I don’t want you to think that your trust is misplaced.” Words started tumbling out of his mouth in a torrent of reassurances. “I won’t even think about going after that... jerk. I’ll be careful if I have to leave the house. I’ll make sure to keep up the house. I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate what you’re doing for me. You’re putting so much at stake for my sake, and I recognize it. I’m grateful. I don’t deserve a friend like you, to be honest.”

Up to that point, the trace of a genuine smile started to take shape on Caiti’s face, but the last line seemed to impede it. Not that the smile was gone, but it was of a lesser quality, more of a disappointed smile than a happy one. Before Jack could ask what was wrong or even form the inquiry in his mind, she was speaking. “I’m glad. Just make sure to take care of yourself while I’m gone. And um, yeah, we’ll talk later okay? My friend is probably outside waiting for me right now, so… I’ll get going.” Power walking back to the living room where her suitcases still laid on the couch, she didn’t chance a glance back.

Jack called a parting remark as he heard the bustle of her picking up her bags and scrambling toward the door. He wanted to offer to help her bring the heavier ones out to her friend’s car at least, but he didn’t. Even he knew that it would be stupid for him to reveal himself to anyone, even a friend of hers. He waited until he heard the door shut one final time, waited for the sound of her voice to fade from the walkway before he let out a sigh of his own.

Just more lies and empty words, he thought.  Not that he wouldn’t try to stay out of trouble, he wasn’t looking to be caught because of that crazed criminal. But he couldn’t just let that man walk around without any consequence. He had to pay for what he’d done, for all the betrayal and all the while walking around using Jack’s ingenious discovery! The scientist in Jack wouldn’t let that one go.

And yet, part of him couldn’t deny the truth in Caiti’s words; the Mad King hadn’t destroyed him. He had destroyed himself. And he would have to pay for that himself.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Goeff leaned against a brick building, eyes staring into nothing as he enjoyed the sensation of wind blowing against exposed skin, listening intently to the daily bustle of life in the city. Sometimes focusing on being in the present kept the visions away.

A voice startled him out of his trance; he turned to the source with a blank expression. “Hey.” The young woman in front of him said casually, as if she had been expected. “Here.” She handed him a grocery bag filled with junk food while flipping her dark hair behind her shoulder with ease. There was a ham sandwich and a bag of chips, a soda… and a lighter. All obviously purchased from the gas station around the corner.

Goeff paused, considering the items in front of him with care. It wasn’t very often that he found himself surprised. Shaking it off, he accepted the bag and, digging through it, pulled out the lighter. He’d had an irrational hatred for the devices for a while now. “Why thank you. I don’t think I’ll be needing this, though.”

“Oh, trust me, that’s the most important thing in the bag,” the young woman insisted, then with a nervous chuckle she stammered “Well, probably. But whatever, if you don’t think you need it, throw it away. It’s yours.” She shrugged with unconvincing nonchalance.

Goeff furrowed his brow, but pocketed the lighter instead of asking what he was thinking. “Thanks.” He glanced up at the brunette and instead said “I don’t think that I know you.”

“Well…well no,” the woman sputtered, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose; a thoughtless gesture, more of a nervous tick than a necessary act. “But I thought that you looked hungry, so I got you food.”

“And the lighter?” The woman shrugged again. “Am I supposed to eat it too?”

“No! It was just an impulse, and I just bought it.” She shrugged for the third time, and he couldn’t help but think that she was a terrible liar.

“Ok. Well, thanks,” Goeff repeated. “I appreciate it. I’ll have to repay you sometime.”

She gave him a strange knowing look then, before saying “Nah, it’s on me. Don’t worry about the money, it wasn’t about that anyway.” Before Goeff could open his mouth to ask what exactly it _was_ all about, she glanced across the street. “See ya around.” She briskly crossed the street and into the crowd, out of sight.

Goeff sighed, watching the young woman speed away. He hadn’t even managed to get her name. But she definitely wasn’t from around town; sounded like she was from somewhere far north. Probably not American. “Well, that was strange,” he muttered to himself, pulling the sandwich out of its wrapper and taking a bite. “Very strange.”

Glancing up to the sky, he took another bite. He had to get going soon. It probably wouldn’t be smart to keep the Mad King waiting when he was expecting you.

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

When Henry Wells came to, he was shocked to see where he was. “…Why am I at work?” he muttered to no one in particular, clutching at his head groggily. He didn’t remember coming in again. Last he remembered, he was home trying to fight down a damned headache…

“Detective,” a sharp voice sounded behind him, sending a stabbing pain into his already aching head. Wells sighed before turning to face his superior. Captain Maverick was striding toward him, the ever-present scowl on his face. “I’m glad you decided to come back in, we need everyone we can get right now. I assume you heard what happened already? It’s a living hell here right now.”

Wells blinked before responding “Sorry Captain, I haven’t heard anything. I just… er, decided to look over some case files again.” It was a poor lie, but it didn’t seem wise to admit to his boss that he didn’t recall coming back in.

Maverick heaved a heavy sigh, eyeing Wells as though he were an inconvenience. “Well, whatever the reason, we need your help. Follow me.” Wells obeyed, silently trailing Maverick as they headed toward the Captain’s office.

“First, we received another… body part from the Mad King, along with a note to the widow of the deceased. We didn’t think it wise to give it to her, due to its contents.” Upon reaching the office, Maverick rifled through an endless stack of papers, finally finding the intended target and handing it to Wells for inspection. When the detective tried to take it using just his fingertips, Maverick explained “We’ve checked for prints already, of course. We checked everything, even the sent appendage. We couldn’t even find a partial. This guy is careful.”

“Sounds like the Mad King, alright.” Wells mumbled, turning his attention to the note.

It read: “ _Dear Mrs. Whirrel,_

_I have been informed that you have decided to carry on with the funeral procession and the burial without waiting for the rest of your husband’s appendages! While I am shocked by this decision, I am not insensitive to it. Doubtless, you are ready to be rid of the burden of planning the funeral of someone so close to you. I can understand your troubles; in fact, I sympathize with them. With that in mind, I have decided to send you just one more part for the burial; consider it a gift from an old friend._

_I hope that this letter finds you and the family in good health. See you at the funeral._

_The Mad King_

Wells shook his head in pained disgust and handed it back. “I think you were right to not give that to her. It’s brutal.”

Maverick nodded in agreement. “The note is practically dripping with sarcasm and malice. He really enjoys taunting people, doesn’t he? It’s inhuman.”

Wells pinched the bridge of his nose as he replied “Unfortunately, I think that sarcasm _is_ the Mad King’s form of sincerity. But you said ‘first’ we received the package, implying something else happened too.”

“Ahh, there’s the detective in you,” Maverick quipped. “Yes, we had another incident, and I think that it has to do with the Stark case that you’re so unwilling to close. So I’m glad that you specifically are here.” He paused. “I hate to admit it, but you were right to fight me on that decision. Something more is happening here.”

“What are the details, sir?”

Maverick motioned for the detective to sit, and he did so. “There was another high stakes theft. No hostages this time, it was a quick and quiet job. The same amount of money was taken that was reportedly demanded by Stark at the time of his hostage attempt.”

Wells raised an eyebrow. “Is that the only similarity? Or was there another connection that you’re not telling me?”

Maverick shot him a cold glare. “Well, we’re still investigating. I’ll keep you updated on the details as we receive them. Right now, it’s just a gut feeling that they’re connected, and I’m hardly ever wrong about those. But I haven’t mentioned my suspicions to anyone but you so far.” He dropped the stare and sighed. “We need to keep this between us for now. Apparently there was security footage, but it’s been heavily tampered with. I’m sending it to some former colleagues for further analysis, see if they can undo some of the damage and catch the perp in the act.”

“If the footage was that badly damaged, then we’re dealing with an expert this time, someone that knew what to look for and had the tools and knowledge to do it. Maybe an inside job?”

Maverick shrugged. “This is where you come in. It’s gonna take a little while before we’re done processing the tapes through our inventory, but after that I’m sending you with the tape, because you seem to be the most competent one here. My guys will be here probably after the Captain’s funeral for the pick-up, so just be on notice that you’ll be leaving then too.”

“Am I going a long ways away?”

Another shrug. “It depends on what you see as a long way. You’ll definitely be out of state for a few days.”

Wells hesitated before nodding. Unexpected travel wasn’t too unusual in his line of work, but he was used to a little more forewarning than this. Still, he had to agree if he wanted to get Maverick to trust him a little bit. “Sure. I’ll make sure to be ready by then.”

Maverick looked as if he had never doubted the outcome. Without another word, he picked up a stack of papers and hoisted it over to Wells. After taking the papers, the detective realized that it was more case notes and debriefings from the current case. “I’ve got Demming and a few of the others looking through this already. I think they might still be in the break room. Go on over and see if they’ve come up with any more of the evidence. And be discreet with what we talked about; not everyone knows about the tape, for obvious reasons. The last thing that I need is a source leak to the press.”

The detective almost commented on how insulting and condescending Maverick’s words were, but thought better of it and walked out of the office with an armload of the papers. It was going to be a long few days.

But then again, when wasn’t it like this?

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Goeff found himself again in the Mad King’s lower base, the lighter resting forgotten in one of his neglected pants pockets. The beast sat across from him at a bare table, looking at his guest with an expectant gaze. He wanted Goeff in charge of some of his tactical planning.

Goeff looked at the younger man with an even stare. “I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t have any interest in helping you hurt people. I can offer you advice and insight into your own mind, but that’s as far as I can go.”

The Mad King smirked at him. “You’re already guilty by association, friend. You might as well go the rest of the way, don’t you think?”

“Nope.”

A surprised laugh escaped the crime lord, sounding close to a vicious bark. “Very well. This is the part that you give me a good reason to not kill you. I’m in no mood to entertain the chance of disappointments.” He replied, his tone sharp and biting in contrast to his charming smile.

“You can if you want. I don’t know why you haven’t yet.” Goeff replied calmly, unconcerned with the thought of dying. When the man in front of him made no move to end him, he continued. “You control your business with an iron fist, and rule your men with fear. A little piece of advice, fear isn’t going to be enough in the long run.”

The beast’s amused smile quickly changed to a scowl. “You think so, huh? You don’t know anything at all. I’ve worked this way for a long damn time, and now you think that you’re going to change it?”

“No. I’m not telling you what to do, Ryan. I’m only telling you what I see.” Goeff turned a knowing eye on the crime boss. “You know that I see a lot. If nothing else, I am observant.”

“Yes.” The beast was completely serious. “Yes, I am aware. An observant drunk. As strange as that is, I don’t deny that it’s true.” Then he sighed. “Alright, I accept. If you think that you can tell me something about myself that I don’t already know, I guess that I can let you live.”

Goeff gave the Mad King a humorless smile. “For starters, I’d like to ask about your relationship with your men. How do you get along with all of them?” He made note that the Mad King twitched as if he’d expected a different question.

“I treat all of my men well; I need them to stay loyal to me, and the only way to make sure of that is to treat them with respect.”

“You hesitated just now.” The beast paused, not answering. Goeff raised an eyebrow. “Are you beginning to doubt them? Do they doubt you?”

The Mad King recovered with a smooth and vague reply. “With the world that we live in, there are bound to be doubts now and then.”

“But you seem surprised by that, still. You expect nothing but loyalty, because that’s how you feel that you are to them.” No answer, the beast merely looked around as if avoiding Goeff’s piercing gaze. He sighed. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t talk to me, Ryan.”

“For starters, don’t call me Ryan while we’re down here,” the Mad King reminded the seer, an impatient edge in his tone. “And I do believe that I’m fair to them, yes. I believe that I am a good leader, yes. There is no reason for them to go against me.”

“There’s always a reason to go against authority. It’s part of our nature.” Goeff reminded him calmly. “We always seek change in our lives, all of us. So why do you fight against it?”

“I don’t. Things always change in business; I’d like to think that I stay up to date,” the beast defended.

“But the way that you run things hasn’t changed, not at the core. Why not change your basic structure?”

“Because it still works.”

“It’s not working now, Ryan,” the Mad King flinched at his name being used again, “because if it was working you wouldn’t be so mistrustful of the ones under you. You think they’re against you, and you’re beginning to turn against them too.”

The beast was quiet, hands folded under his chin as he absorbed the words. Finally, he said “Perhaps it’s time I gave them all a little… reminder of who we are. It’s been a long time since I had to do that.”

Goeff smiled, oblivious to the Mad King’s true intent beneath the words. “Reminders are always nice. It can be an inspiring experience! I remember when I was still a fireman, we sometimes had teambuilding sessions when there was tension in our team.”

The beast raised his eyes to meet Goeff’s gaze, and what the seer saw there chilled him. Cold blue eyes looked out, paired with the darkest smile. The seer’s heart sank as he realized the truth. “Ryan…”

“This is definitely a great help to me, _Geoff_.” Goeff flinched at his old name. “I like what we’re doing here. What else do you see in me that needs, improvement?”

Goeff stilled his growing discomfort and turned his own steely gaze to the beast in front of him. He had felt a growing urge to leave up until that point, but refused to abandon Ryan to this monster residing inside him. He wouldn’t give up hope. “I think we might be here for a while, Ryan.”

\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

It was like being held under water for a long time. He could still hear muffled voices every now and then; Gavin was there sometimes, sometimes detective Wells. There was the familiar buzz of his family visiting a few times. A woman’s voice that he barely recognized, but found that it irritated him for some reason. And then, Ray managed to break above the surface.

He opened his eyes in a slow fashion, getting them used to the bright lights overhead. He was still in the hospital, obviously. But he felt even worse than he did before, if that was even possible. He was alone; typical. The one time he manages to be awake, and there’s no one there to greet him. He sighed, which turned into a dry cough.

“Man, some water would be nice,” he wheezed to no one in particular. He contemplated just going back to sleep when his doctor walked in. He recognized the elderly gentleman right away and tried to call to him. But the old man had already spotted him.

“Ray, good to see you awake! How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been to hell.”

Doctor Hartnell laughed. “Well, that’s a given. I’m sure that you’re quite thirsty, aren’t you? I’ll see if I can get Susan to get you a bit of water, but we’ll only give you a few sips at a time, okay? Don’t want to overload your system, after all. You’ve been sleeping for a few days.”

Ray’s eyes popped open. “How long have I been out?” What did “a few days” even mean? Two? Three? Ten? He hated not knowing.

“Almost a week, but a little less than that. Please just relax for now, it’s important for your recovery.” Doctor Hartnell explained in a stern tone. “Last time you didn’t listen to me, and this was the result. Let’s not push things now, hmm?”

“Yeah. So um, has anyone been by to see me?” He was disappointed that Gavin hadn’t been there at least.

“Oh, you’ve been very popular! Several people stop by on the regular. I’m sorry that you had to wake to an empty room, but I believe that Gavin will be here in a few hours at his regular time. I can make a call to see if he can come in now, if you’d like?”

Ray tried to shake his head, but only succeeded in making himself dizzy. “Uh, no that’s okay. I think I might pass out again any minute. I doubt I’ll still be awake by the time my water gets here.”

Hartnell chuckled, amused. “Yes, I expect so. Still, it’s good that you’ve woken up now. It shows good progress.”

Ray had been correct; by the time Susan was called on and returned with a Styrofoam cup of cold water, he was again fast asleep. She set the cup down on the bedside table and turned to Doctor Hartnell with a quizzical look. “Did you mention anything about the funeral that his colleagues keep talking about when they drop by?”

The doctor shook his head. “We don’t need to stress him out about that right now. When he’s a little more recovered, I’m sure Gavin will talk to him about it."

Ray slumbered on.


	13. Setting Traps

It was going on day three of Goeff’s imprisonment in the Mad King’s base, and he was still going in and out of consciousness. He had a vague suspicion that he was being drugged, but anytime he tried to focus on the thought, or any thought of real importance, he slipped back into a foggy dissociative state of mind. For the first time in a long time, he cherished the few moments of clarity, because there hadn’t been many from the time the Mad King decided to keep him for lack of cooperation.  
He still heard the dark rumble of the beast’s voice as he first started to fade from consciousness. “It’s really very simple, Mr. Ramsey. As long as you refuse to do what I ask, I can’t allow you to leave.” Goeff remembered the monster-like snarl that had spread across the Mad King’s face. “I do hope you enjoyed your drink.”  
The Mad King himself hadn’t been around to see him since that last meeting, but any time he happened to be awake and lucid, he strained to hear the whispered conversations outside of his room.  
Well, he called it a room, but it was much more like a cramped cell than a room. He supposed that he should have expected as much of a crime lord, but he had pegged the beast to have some sense of honor and decorum about him. Goeff was fast realizing how mistaken his first impression of the man really was, which was very strange for his usual intuitive sense.  
Goeff half-sighed, half-groaned to himself on his sparsely covered cot; it’s not like he had anywhere else to be, and he supposed that not being beaten senseless everyday was a hidden blessing. But what was the purpose of all this? What did the beast really want? Why not kill Goeff instead? Or if not, why drug him instead of torturing him? Nothing was adding up.   
“What are you doing, Ryan?” Goeff mumbled to himself. Having just woken up, he was feeling both nauseous and jittery; no doubt that these were side effects of whatever drug they were giving him.   
Hearing the distinctive sound of somebody clearing their throat from outside of his room, he struggled to lift his head enough to glance up at the barred window. Even with the dim lighting in the hallway beyond, his weary mind refused to divulge more than an ambiguous outline of a person. “Is someone there?” Goeff called out weakly.  
There was a prolonged silence before the sound of the door hinges swinging open cut through the air. A young man entered the room, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, and placed a tray of food and water onto the floor next to the cot.   
“Erm, here,” the man grunted. Goeff thought that he looked familiar. Then again, a lot of people looked familiar to him that he had never met.   
Goeff forced himself to turn around on the cot so that he was facing the young man. He was still too dizzy to sit up, but at least he could get a better look. “Hm, curly hair, freckles… No, I suppose not.” Goeff didn’t realize that he’d spoken aloud until the young man, glanced down at him, defensive.  
“Why are you talking to yourself?”  
Goeff couldn’t fight back a soft chuckle. “Because you’re not making much of a conversation for me to go off of.” The man glowered down at him, but when Goeff kept watching him, he got flustered.  
“Eat. I can’t leave until I see you eat something.”   
Goeff gave a weak nod. “I figured as much.” He reached out for the tray and pulled it up, trembling. He managed to rest it next to him on the cot, but the exertion left him winded, and he had to rest.   
The young man noted what a hard time Goeff was having, and asked in a troubled tone “You… you sick? Are you not well?”   
Goeff glanced up at the man, wondering if he really had no idea what they were putting in the food. Finally deciding that his expression was one of genuine concern, the seer said “Who was it that told you to make sure I eat?”  
The man’s wording was slightly off in dialect. “It was the King. My chief…er, boss, told me to see that you ate.” Then he insisted. “So please eat. You will feel better with some food in your belly.”  
Goeff ignored the request. “What’s your name, kid?”  
“Mmm… Mmmmm…” the young man looked irritated. “Mo- Michael.” The irritation was even more evident in his voice.  
“Not from around here, are you, kid?”  
“Not… no.”  
“Where are you from, Michael?”  
The irritation increased. “Please eat.”  
“It just doesn’t seem like either of us is here by choice, are we, Michael?”  
A frustrated silence followed.   
“You won’t tell me where you’re from?”  
“…From far away.”  
Goeff tried to smile, but it hurt. He really should take a bite of the food, drugged or not. His stomach felt so empty, and he hadn’t been one for a clear head in a long time; that’s when the screams always started up. He thought of his wife, and the pang to his heart made him reach for the food. “Hey kid, you have any family?”  
Michael closed his eyes then, and didn’t move or speak for a time. Then, with a final wordless grunt, he turned and left the room. Goeff listened to his retreating footfalls in the hallway beyond, then turned his eyes back to the food. Technically, he didn’t have to eat it; it would have been a bad idea to continue drugging himself.  
He tried to weigh the pros and cons. On one hand, he had just been informed that the Mad King was finally planning to visit him. If he was clearheaded, he might be able to get some answers, and he would have a better chance of getting away. On the other hand…  
He thought of Michael’s face right before he’d left the room, thought of what the Mad King might do to the kid for not following orders, thought of his own family. He nibbled at the slab of meat on the tray thoughtfully, then started tearing into it, starving. It wasn’t long before he was once again incoherent, eager to fall back into a dark slumber.   
\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
“So. The Captain’s funeral is this weekend.” Ray spoke in a quiet voice.   
Gavin was sitting in a chair next to him, eyes riveted to his friend’s face, but Ray didn’t turn to look at him, instead opting to stare at the chart on the wall opposite him. His voice was just as quiet.  
“Yea.”  
Ray closed his eyes and nodded. “There’s, uh, there’s no way that I’m going to be able to go, is there?”  
Gavin sighed. “Ray…”  
“Please just answer the obvious question with the obvious answer.”  
Another sigh. “No.”  
“I figured. Damn shoulder,” Ray chuckled to himself. “Well, send my regards and all that. I assume you’re going at least, to represent us?”  
Gavin nodded. “Yea, of course. You know, I bet the Captain wouldn’t even mind, what with you being injured and all. He’d want you to heal properly.”  
“Yeah, I know.” Ray paused, thinking. Just as Gavin was getting ready to say something reassuring, or comforting, or stupid, he spoke again.  
“Hey. I know I haven’t been the easiest asshole to deal with lately. Hell, I’m just now able to stay awake.” Another pause. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say, but thanks, man. You’ve been here more than anyone, and I’m getting used to your loud-ass snoring when I wake up. It’s nice to not be alone, so thanks, I guess.”  
Gavin giggled. “Should I start sleeping in your room from now on too, when we get home?”  
“Shut up, Gavin!” Ray laughed. “I can hear you just fine through the wall, but thanks for the offer.”  
“While I appreciate the thanks, please stop talking as if you’re bloody dying or something! You’re just stuck with me, injury or not.” The conversation was interrupted with a nurse coming in to check vitals and drop off food.   
Gavin waited until the nurse left before lowering his voice and leaning closer to Ray. “Anyway, it’s not completely decided on whether or not Captain Whirrel’s funeral will be public or private. It was originally going to be public, closed casket obviously, but then… Well, the Mad King left a note at the bloody station, with… with his head.”  
Ray had stiffened at the mention of the Mad King, but the mention of the Captain’s head showing up at the station made him rest his forehead against the palms of his hands. “Jesus Christ…”  
“Yea, it was really bad. Kinda a ballsy move for him to make, but I guess that’s how he likes to operate.”  
Ray muttered under his breath, “Well, if we can’t even remember his fuckin’ face, why wouldn’t he be…”  
“But here’s the good news! We’re setting a trap for him, in case he shows up at the funeral!”  
“It’s pretty obvious that he’s going to show up.”  
“Yes, it is. Why don’t you sound excited? We’re finally gonna catch the fucker! You sound like you don’t give a damn.”  
“Gavin. We cannot remember his fucking face. He shot me at close range, and I still can’t remember him. How do you expect to trap someone you can’t remember?”  
Gavin let out a frustrated grunt. “I said we have a bloody plan! Christ, you can be a little excited! Have a little faith.”  
Ray shook his head slightly before changing the subject. “How’s Detective Wells doing?”  
“Oh, I forgot you haven’t seen him! You’re always knocked out when he stops by. Just fine, I suppose, still fighting with the new Captain on that attempted bank robbery and kidnapping case. He wants to close it, and Henry wants to keep it open.”  
Ray raised an eyebrow. “I had no idea that you and the detective were on a first name basis.”  
Gavin shrugged. “He seems nice enough. Always stops by for a pleasant little chat, too bad you’re always asleep.” The Brit yawned before checking his watch. “Damn, I suppose I need to go into work soon. Hate to leave you Ray, but our manager has been less and less patient with me this past week. I have to go in and get something done, or we’re both out of a bloody job.”  
Ray shrugged, a small smile appearing on his face. A rarity these days. “Alright, get the hell out of here and make our paycheck.”  
Gavin happily obliged.   
\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
Mogar sat alone in his room, eyes fixed to the lighter in his hand, flicking it on and off repeatedly. He was mesmerized by the tiny flame that kept appearing, dancing at the end of the device until he removed his thumb from the sparker, watching it disappear in an instant.   
He’d stolen the lighter, the day that the Mad King brought that man to one of the rooms in the lower levels. He thought back to his visit to the man’s room today. He looked around his own quarters. The man’s room wasn’t as nice as his was. He didn’t understand why, in a way he was also a prisoner. But his bed was so much nicer, his space much more spacious.   
He felt sorry for the man downstairs.  
He remembered watching from the hallway, standing guard with his mentor, E-2. The Mad King sat at one end of a table, the man at the other end. A couple of drinks were all that occupied the tabletop. Mogar couldn’t hear what they were saying (which was the point of them standing guard from a distance, of course) but he could tell that the Mad King was getting more irritated as the conversation went on.   
The man started drinking out of his glass. Not even two minutes later, he’d turned several shades paler and started to slump out of his chair, eyes unfocused, then completely closed. Mogar had stiffened up, knowing that the man must have fallen ill, and tried to rush over to help. E-2 held him back. “Hold on,” he said in a warning tone.  
Both men watched as the Mad King began rummaging through the man’s pockets, taking out anything he found and putting it all into a pile on the table. Then he called them over. “E-2! Lock these things up for our ‘guest’, please.”  
The lighter in Mogar’s hand had been one of those items. He didn’t know why he found it so fascinating, but he felt compelled to take it and hide it in his suit pocket when the Mad King and E-2 weren’t watching him that day. He’d been fidgeting with it in his room when he accidentally sparked a flame. Almost set fire to his bedsheets that time. In his panic, he’d tossed the tiny object away, and it would have shattered had it not landed on his bed.   
A sudden tap on his door caused Mogar to jump, hastily slipping the lighter into his pocket again before standing to open his door. He’d expected to see E-2 on the other side, as he often stopped by for more lessons, or just to talk. The warrior hadn’t expected to see the Mad King standing there.  
His mouth went dry. “I wasn’t expecting you, sir.” Mogar stepped to the side, allowing the beast to enter his quarters.   
The Mad King strolled in silently, bringing with him a great sense of unease, though his face betrayed no signs of distemper. “How was our guest?” the beast asked, unaffected.  
Mogar fought to swallow, wishing he had a cup of water handy. “He seemed a bit sick, sir.”  
“Did he eat the lunch that we prepared for him? That should help him tremendously.”  
Mogar nodded silently, though he cursed himself in his mind for not staying to watch. “Yes, sir.”  
“And you’re sure about that.” It was more of a statement than a question, and Mogar was eager to please, so he nodded vigorously.  
“Yes, sir.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound too restricted.  
The Mad King smiled, dazzling the warrior with his charm, despite the aura of fear that he gave off. “Good. I hope he’s feeling better. I’m going to have another talk with him in an hour or so.” He fixed his cold eyes on the warrior and nodded.   
He started to turn for the door, and Mogar almost sighed with relief. But just as he was beginning to relax, the beast seemed to change his mind and shut the door, turning back around. This time, the warrior thought that he detected a hint of malice in his eyes.  
In a commanding tone, “Empty your pockets.”  
Mogar felt his heart drop to his stomach. “Sir?”  
The Mad King didn’t break eye contact or change his tone. “Empty your pockets.” For emphasis, he lowered his tone. “Now.”  
Mogar fought against the trembling in his hands, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t hide the blatant fear in his eyes. He knew that the beast saw his fear, and reveled in his power over the warrior. He slowly turned out the pockets that he knew were completely empty, trying to delay the inevitable.   
The Mad King didn’t even seem to blink as he waited, with the patience of a predator staking out its prey. Mogar felt his hand close around the lighter in the final pocket, and wondered briefly if he could hide it in his sleeve, if he were quick enough. The set look in the Mad King’s eyes told him to not bother trying.   
He pulled the lighter out of his pocket, held it out in defeat. The Mad King nodded once, as if confirming his suspicions to himself. “I see.”   
Mogar knew that he should step forward and give up the lighter, but the cold gaze he was receiving had him rooted to the spot. The Mad King’s voice was surprisingly even. “And in your time, was it also wrong to steal, Mogar?”  
The use of his warrior’s name sent a tremor of fear through him. He thought back to E-6’s warning about the Mad King using someone’s name in the base, and what it meant for him. He thought about the stolen pistol carefully hidden in his mattress, the ripped seam barely visible unless you were looking for it. Would he have time to reach for it before…?  
He was so lost in his thoughts that he forgot to answer, another mistake that the beast set out to correct. “I asked you a question.”  
Eyes wide, Mogar hated how weak his voice sounded when he answered. “Yes, sir.”  
The Mad King nodded again, thoughtful. Coming to a decision, he said “Well, it’s been a long time for you. I can let it slide just this once.” Though the warrior felt immediate relief upon hearing those words, he didn’t trust the dark smile that had appeared on his superior’s face.  
Still smiling, he held out his hand to Mogar. Without a second thought, Mogar stepped forward to hand over the lighter…  
And just as quickly, the Mad King held fast to his wrist as he took the lighter. Mogar yelped in surprise and instinctively tried to pull away, but the Mad King’s grip was monstrous. He flicked the sparker and in between the two men appeared a tiny flame, dancing away, oblivious to the tension in the air.  
While maintaining eye contact, the Mad King held the flame to Mogar’s outstretched arm, burning his inner wrist. Mogar managed to hold down the scream fighting to break out of his throat, but he couldn’t control the pained look contorting his face as he again tried to pull away. The smell of burning flesh almost made him gag, yet it seemed to have no adverse reaction to his punisher. The beast seemed rather pleased with the outcome.   
Finally, the Mad King loosened his grip on Mogar, who stumbled to the opposite corner of the room, nursing his burned wrist.   
“Remember this, Mogar,” the Mad King said, his voice firm and even as he clearly enunciated every word. “Nobody, steals from me. I am fire. Take a lighter, and I will burn you. Take a knife, and I will stab you. Take a gun…” he trailed off, then gave his inferior a pointed look. “Do you understand, Mogar?”  
Through the involuntary tears falling onto his injured arm, Mogar forced himself to look the beast in the face, almost defiant. He understood the threat. “Are you going to kill me, sir?” he managed to ask through clenched teeth.  
The Mad King raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Why, no. It’s only a little lighter, Mogar. I think you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you? I haven’t even assigned you your number yet; you’re in no danger.” He crossed the room and knelt down to Mogar, who instantly stiffened but knew better than to flinch away, for fear of a worse punishment coming his way.  
The beast gently pulled the wound into view and ran fingertip around it, his touch so light that Mogar almost didn’t feel it against his skin. “I just want you to have this reminder,” the Mad King murmured, “that nobody fucks with me and gets away unscathed.”   
He let Mogar withdraw his arm again and gave the young warrior a firm clap on the back, then stood to leave. “I’ll have someone check in on you shortly. That’s going to leave a mark.”  
\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
“Who the bloody hell are you?” Gavin had just walked into his office after stopping at the apartment for a quick shower, and was surprised to find that someone was already there, working on a computer.  
The girl looked up, her glasses catching the glare of the lights above as she answered. “Oh, hello! I’m going to be your new assistant! I guess they hadn’t told you yet.”  
Gavin held his arms out in disbelief, and turned to shout down the hallway for his supervisor, only to find that he was already standing behind him. “GAH! Don’t bloody sneak up on me like that! I’m very sensitive to scares!”  
His supervisor completely ignored his reaction and said “Free, this is your assistant, Shaylee Pearson. She’s an exchange student from, Canada, did you say?” The girl nodded, a bright smile on her face. “With Narvaez being unable to work for the next few months, you’re going to need someone to help you complete both of your projects. She catches on pretty quick, so show her the ropes and then get to work.”  
He turned and walked down the hallway toward his own office, oblivious to Gavin’s squawks and sputters of protest. When he turned around to face his new assistant again, he found that she had pulled out a chair next to her for him to sit. Speechless, he sat.   
“Um, so, Ms. Pearson…”  
“Please call me Shay! Ms. Pearson is so formal, and we’re going to be working together, so it would be weird.” She pointed to a name placard that Gavin hadn’t noticed earlier, which simply stated “Shay P.” Giggling, she said “I guess I’m in pretty good SHAPE!” and started laughing.   
Gavin stared at her, dumbstruck. “It’s funny, because it says ‘Shay P.’ so when you put it together- oh, never mind.”   
His eyebrows raised as he finally realized she was making a joke. “Ooh…” He tried to laugh, though not much more than a weak sounding squeak came out. An awkward silence filled the room, before both of them turned to their respective computers to keep working.   
Being so used to working with Ray, Gavin couldn’t handle the silence. Glancing at her, he couldn’t believe how young she looked, and decided to investigate. “So, uh, Shay, how old are you?”  
“Eighteen.” She answered a little too quickly.  
“No, you’re not!”  
Chuckling nervously, she said “How would you know that?”  
“Because you don’t exactly look eighteen, do you?” Fully prepared, Shay pulled out an ID with her birthday and handed it to him. Again, a little too quickly.  
“See the date?”  
Gavin raised an eyebrow as he inspected the ID. “Hmm,” was all he said at first. His gut instinct told him to bluff, though it looked convincing enough to him. “I have friends at the police station that could take a look at this and tell me if it’s legit or not.”  
“Wait!” she squeaked.   
“Aha!” he laughed in triumph.  
“Alright, so I may have fudged my age on the application. But I do learn really quickly, so I promise not to be a hindrance to you. I’ll assist the best I can.”  
Gavin pursed his lips. “How did you manage to slip through the cracks that easily? Our company is pretty thorough in their background check.”  
Shay just smiled. “Oh, I just have a way of being at the right place at the right time,” she replied simply.  
“Hmm, right. Not cryptic at all then.” Gavin sighed. “I won’t say anything to anyone. I really do need the help, I guess. But what brought you to Texas in the first place?”  
She sighed before turning back to her computer. “Long story,” she mumbled. Gavin decided to leave it at that for now and maybe ask another time. They had weeks of work to catch up on.  
\--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  
The Mad King tapped his fingers restlessly against the top of his bar counter. He hadn’t seen the mysterious Ms. “K” in some time now, at least not in person. And whenever a payment was due, she tended to send someone in her stead to drop off the payment. Always a different man with a dazed look in his eye.   
She was smart. He hated it. He’d planned to have her trapped in his base long before now. At first his intention was to kill her, but now…  
He smirked. As it turned out, her academic past was going to make her invaluable to him. This time, he had a foolproof plan to scare her out of hiding. He’d sent her an email detailing the demise of her precious living artifact, and in her panic she had actually agreed to meet him at his base again.  
It was nearly time to spring the trap. He thought back on all of the recent research he had done on Mogar’s time, on his people and his culture. Apparently, any sort of artifacts from that time were extremely valuable, and the black market trade for such items was even more profitable.  
The Mad King had received an anonymous tip from a trusted source that there were several burial sites uncovered that probably held large caches of said artifacts, all ready for the taking, if you had the right team for it.  
Well, he almost had his perfect inspection team assembled: Father Goeff, the intuitive seer; the mysterious “K”, the archaeologist/historian that specialized in that time period; and finally the notorious Mogar, who was himself a living artifact of that time. His perfect team. And when he had gained his profit, he could always dispose of them if they became too troublesome.  
Just outside of his bar, he thought he spied his desired academic across the street, although she seemed to have been smart enough to bring back-up. The beast within broke through the usual façade with a maniacal smile.   
It was time to spring the trap.


End file.
